


The Witcher

by ProxyMoron



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Slow Build, Swan-Mills Family, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProxyMoron/pseuds/ProxyMoron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil is Evil…Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit, I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all. </p><p>When Emma Swan, a witcher, a professional monster hunter, is hired by Queen Regina to find her son she thinks it will be her easiest contract yet. She couldn't be more wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

In the free city of Novigrad at midday an old man hobbled into the market square flanked on each side by soldiers, slowly he made his way onto a soap box and began to speak. "I see you gathered before me. Hungry, terrified, clutching your babes to your breast. Rabid and ravenous they bites and bites away. Men of the North, you stand at the precipice! Your kings have failed you, so now you turn to the Gods. And yet you do not plead! You do not kneel to dust your heads with ash. Instead you wail why have the Gods forsaken us. We must look into the trials we've failed long ago. In a time past our world intertwined with another through an upheaval scholars call the Conjunction of the Spheres. The Gods allowed unholy forces to slip into our domain. The offspring of that cataclysm was the nefarious force called Magic."

"Yet we did not banish it. Instead studying the vile kin for our own power and wealth. And the monsters at our door, the unholy relics of this Conjunction - the trolls, the corpse eaters, the werewolves - did we raise our swords against them? Or have we laid this burden on others? What so called - "Witchers" Stray children taught the ways of foul sorcery. Their bodies mutated through blasphemous ritual. Sent to fight monsters though they could not distinguish good from evil. The flicker of humanity a long extinguished howl within them. Once their numbers dwindled through the years, but it seems more have picked up the silver sword in recent years. Some still roam our lands offering their bloody work for coin. To this day they shame us with their very existence."

"The North bleeds always flogged by war. The battles are the Gods' whip, chastisement for our sins. Can we chart our course back into the light? Will we find the strength to banish the mages from our kingdoms? Unite under the warmth of the eternal fire! Nigh is the time of the sword and axe. None will fight this war in our stead! Nigh is the time of madness and disdain!"

XXX

Three days. It had been three days and four nights since they had set the man to the task of taking care of the problem that was terrorizing the villages in the southern part of their kingdom. As the sun rose through the trees reaching its peak at noon, its rays washed over the Kingdom of Snow White and Prince Charming; the Kingdom Of Caingorn. The castle itself was grand, built over a great lake and connected to the mainland by a mile long bridge.

The large city, Merton, the crown jewel of the kingdom in front of the castle held many nobles and persons of import in the running of the Charming Kingdom was flanked on one side by the vast enchanted forest and on the other by the vast sea that spilled into the harbor. The castle and its city sat to the north of the kingdom, metaphorically so that they could watch over the rest of the kingdom.

It is also why it took so long for news from the southernmost part of the Kingdom to reach the port city. The swamps were near the hardiest part of the Charming kingdom, filled with monsters and fiends that would kill even the toughest of soldiers if the wrong steps were taken. Over a month ago a number of travelling merchants and travelers from the region brought tales with them. Tales of a monster that terrorized the villages in the swamp.

In spite of its danger several villages had popped up in the swamps over the years in its less dangerous spaces. Somehow the people of the swamps managed to make it work, but then troubling reports came in of hunters and residents of the swamps seeming to disappear for days at a time only to be found days later as a mangled corpse by a traveler or search party.

The Charmings were rulers that tried to help those that resided in their kingdoms as quickly as possible, so immediately upon hearing this they mobilized a unit of their army. The best of the best these soldiers were and handpicked by the King himself the residents of the swamp felt hope for the first time in months. Until the soldiers' bodies, or rather their body parts were found near a cave where they were camped.

The King and Queen were running out of options quickly so they went to the last resort, the last thing the Queen wanted to do. Hiring someone to take care of this for them, but not just any someone, a Witcher, a professional hunter and killer of monsters.

Taken in as children, often orphans or children of surprise, they are put through ruthless mental, physical and magical training to become the ultimate killing machines.

Charming knew of at least a half dozen witchers running around his kingdom, but at the time that the attacks in the south were becoming more rampant, there was one in the city of Merton, hearing from one of the members of his council that the man had just broken a curse over a haunted house in the city and was still at one of the inns. So the king had him summoned to his court and offered to pay him a thousand gold coins to kill the beast. A week later and the witcher had still not returned.

"Snow, I'm sure he'll be here, witchers are many things but I've never known one to turn down coin when offered." He assured his wife for what felt like the millionth time that day. His wife kept fidgeting in her throne and he forced himself to stop from pinching the bridge of his nose, he knew she hated that normally and she had been a tad moody lately.

Snow herself wasn't so sure, anyone who killed for money probably couldn't be trusted, and then there was the way that they looked, witchers' eyes honestly sent a chill down her spine. "I don't know David, none of this feels right, hiring someone to do this instead of our own people. It's not the honorable thing to do and what does it say about us? That we just hire someone to do it for us when the going gets tough." Snow fretted but in truth she was worried about more than that, none of their scouts had seen hide nor hair of the witcher after he'd left the city.

He hadn't been paid yet so he could still be on the job, but she was nervous he'd just turned the other way and decided not to do it. Instead of waiting for a man who'd never complete a job they could be looking for other solutions. Snow breathed a sharp breath out through her nose as David reached over and placed his hand in hers, she could feel the stress leaving her boy and she smiled over gratefully at him and just then their prayers were answered.

A guard, dressed in the blue and black armor of the Charming kingdom walked into the throne room and as he got to the steps of the throne bowed to them. "My King, my queen, the witcher has returned, he's just outside." He was new, it was his first time addressing them, they could both hear the quiver in his voice.

Snow put on her Queen face and David could see all of the anxiety leave her body instantly Queen hood suited her. "Send him in then." She commanded in a steady cool voice. The young man nodded and walked quickly to the back of the room and pulled the large door open. For the first time in a week they saw the man, he strode in all business, like he owned the place. With two swords strapped to his back and light leather armor. He walked up to within talking distance of them, not bothering to bow.

He had black hair cut short and his complexion was brown like those of his kinsman from the Islands had, his skin wrinkled into lines on his forehead and his nose hooked at the bridge, his lips were thin and into the same flat line they had seen half a week ago. A scar decorated his mouth cutting from his upper left lip to his lower right causing a separation in his beard Then there were his eyes, they were cat-like pressed into narrow vertical slits and a golden iris that seemed to have a very dull glow even in midday. Hanging from his neck over his armor was also a medallion of a cat's head with glowing yellow eyes.

"Your Majesties," he began in a raspy voice bowing his head a little. Only a little.

"Master Witcher! You return to us finally, we anxiously awaited you. You bring us good news I hope." David could not hide his anxiety and leaned as far out of his throne as he could without falling out of it. He wore a polite smile on his face but Snows faced was formed into a tight frown.

"Of course. I killed the beast that was terrorizing your subjects. I have the evidence strapped to my horse." He rasped pointing a thumb in the general direction of the stables outside. It took both of them a moment to realize he had probably taken the beasts' head as proof. It was all Snow could do to hide her disgust.

David cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence. "Soldier," he began addressing the man who'd brought the witcher back to court, he immediately snapped to attention. "Fetch the trophy." He nodded and scampered off toward the stables. "If you could be so kind…what manner of beast was it that was terrorizing our people?" David got up and Snow followed suit walking over to the man.

"A fiend was living in the swamp, fiends usually try to avoid contact with humans but the hunters that discovered her attacked in their fright and startled her. From then on she would hypnotize her victims and lure them out into the swamp to kill them." The witcher Cormac reported and David and Snow remembered the images they had seen in books of fiends.

Fiends were walking mountains of muscle capped with horned, tooth-filled heads. Their size alone makes fiends extremely dangerous—one blow from their powerful claws can kill a even a horse with but a single blow. As if that were not enough trouble they have an even more refined weapon, the third eye located in the center of their forehead, which they use to draw their prey into a state of hypnosis.

Snow was convinced that they had made the right choice in hiring a witcher now, no one else could have handled such a creature. "Thank you, for handling this for us. I had reservations about hiring you at first, but perhaps yours is an honorable guild after all." He smiled then, for the first time since they had met him, perhaps it was even genuine.

"But," She continued after a moment, seeming to struggle for a moment with a question. "Are you sure fiends aren't inherently dangerous? It killed nearly two dozen of our best soldiers." When he had said that fiends normally avoided contact with humans it startled her, to think that human beings would start a fight with the creature honestly confused her and to be honest David was curious too.

He looked down at the ground for a moment, turning something over in his head and then looked to them with a patient smile.

"People," Cormac began, "like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they kill a trapped fox with an axe or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live." He knew that the Charmings had outlawed the hunting of Unicorns years ago, but even so in other kingdoms they were near extinct, less than twenty left in all of the kingdoms.

He paused for a moment and then continued, "Don't mistake my words, however, there are truly monstrous creatures out there, there are cyclopses who terrorize entire highways, and then there are bruxae and ekimmarae, and other types of vampire who kill in order to live, griffins like to hunt humans and play with their food before killing it." He took a moment to look at both of them, David for his part had a furrowed brow, he seemed to be absorbing every word, while Snow White watched, her eyebrows slightly raised but not paying any bit less attention.

He rubbed his beard, the heat of the sun warming his face through the stained glass windows, and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. This was one of the things he was passionate about; if there was anything he knew it was monsters.

"Well we thank you." The queen began, truly for his work and in his perspective on monsters. "Its certainly refreshing to hear such a position especially from one such as you." A monster slayer defending monsters, what would they think of next, she looked at David expectantly, he took the hint.

David stood up and walked over to the man, a heavy stride and when he came face to face with the man he stuck his hand out and nodded his head solemnly, the witcher did not waste time in returning the gesture. At least they taught manners during witchers training.

"You've certainly earned your pay, witcher." David continued and he gestured for one of the soldiers who had been holding onto a chest full of gold coins for exactly this moment. The soldier opened the chest for the witchers inspection the witcher stared for a moment as if deciding. Then he waved the man away.

"I'm not interested in gold today." He was staring at Snow, not at her but through her.

"Well we can't let you go without payment." David argued albeit half-heartedly, wanting to just pay the man and get this over with. "In gratitude, I will give whatever your hearts desire."

Cormac's entire body language shifted and he stared intensely at David. "Say that again."

"I will give you whatever you ask." David repeated slowly and Cormac nodded heavily tilting his head.

"In order to become a witcher you have to be born in the shadow of destiny." He began, "and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us left we're growing old, dying, without anyone to pass our knowledge onto. We lack successors and this world is full of evil, which waits for the day none of us are left. David you will give me…that which you already have but do not yet know about. I will return to Merton in four years to see if destiny has been kind to me." He addressed David directly this time. It was then Snow gave out the most shrill shriek David had ever heard from her and fell to her knees, David immediately fell to her side grasping her shoulder. Opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. He never got the chance.

"David—" Tears were streaming down her face now I—I was going to tell you." She hiccupped unable to form words now. David rubbed her shoulders in small circles to comfort her, hushing her quietly. The witcher stood a statue, his arms folded with a distinctly sad look on his face, and his nails gripping into his arms so tightly his knuckles turned white.

A tradition as ancient as the world itself, it demands that a man saved by another is expected to offer to their savior a boon whose nature is still unknown, both to the saved and to the benefactor. In most cases, it is a child, conceived or born whilst the father was away. The Law of Surprise was amongst one of the most hallowed traditions in any Kingdom in the world breaking it after the word was given was unthinkable, many even thought breaking this after the word was given could bring about a plague or a curse

The queen finally gathered herself. "I was going to tell you tonight. David…I'm pregnant."

X X X

She didn't remember her parents. Well that wasn't completely true she sometimes remembered her mother in her dreams, but upon waking she would forget what she looked like all over again. Sometimes she could hear her fathers' voice too, but it just wasn't enough. She looked out her window into the courtyard of Kaer Gelen, the witcher fortress located in White Mountains of the Kingdom of Aedirn. Her entire life had been here, at least everything she could remember was here, and she wouldn't trade it for anything, except maybe a more permanent memory of her parents.

Emma Swan woke up and it was still the crack of dawn, throughout all of her training she had been forced to wake up at ridiculous hours, to where now it was embedded in her, she was an extremely heavy sleeper however, she'd learned this when Cormac tested her reflexes by pretending to be an attacker in the night. It took him near ten minutes just to get her awake. It had been nearly twelve years since Cormac originally brought her to Kaer Gelen, 12 years of training almost from the time she could walk she'd had a sword in her hand. A light sheet of snow had fallen over the castle while they slept, and it seemed to make the castle even more beautiful.

She was 15 now and she was finally nearing the time for her trials finally, and then she could become a true witcher. Cormac had told her that the instructors had nearly finished gathering all of the necessary herbs for the trials. Looking down into the courtyard and could see that he was already down there setting up the training dummies for the other recruits to train. With a grin she pulled on her trousers and wool jacket and ran downstairs to the courtyard.

Cormac continued putting up the training dummies and smirked, having heard Emma run down the stairs, without turning around he remarked, "You still step too loudly." She huffed and dropped the snowball she was holding. She looked to see there were about six dummies set up, meaning that she had finally graduated to being able to train with a live person.

"Using witcher senses is cheating!" She grumbled walking in front of him she grinned. Cormac finished with his dummy placing a metal bucket over its head to act as an impromptu helmet. It was then Emma ran over to the weapon rack at the other and of the courtyard underneath a wooden awning and grabbed two wooden swords. She raced back over and tossed it to him one of the swords. He caught it easily and spun it in his hand testing the weight.

"I told Argus to set it up so that Riordan would train with you." Argus was the head witcher in charge of Kaer Gelen, the school of the Cat, and the alchemy instructor, to Cormac's weapon and fencing instruction. Riordan was another recruit, a year older than her, with a messy red mop of hair, his parents had been killed by bandits who'd attacked his village when Argus had been passing through the area, after Argus had killed the bandits who'd tried to shake him down, Riordan had asked to come with him. That was about five years ago, Argus had become something of a mentor to him afterwards. Cormac folded his arms.

Emma blew some air out of her nose with a scoff, "Please, he can't even keep up with Alvin…" She paused for a moment and smirked at him, he raised an eyebrow, "or are you just scared to get beat by a girl and want to pawn me off on someone else." Cormac didn't budge and Emma let out a long-suffering sigh. "All right fine Riordan is a late sleeper, we've got at least an hour before he wakes up, can't we just go until then?"

He unfolded his arms with a smirk and spun his sword several times in his right hand showing off. Emma met his smirk with one of his own and spun her own sword until it was in a reverse grip, truth be told Emma was the best amongst their recruits, she took to combat like a fish to water, in spite of the fact that witchers fought exclusively with long swords they were trained to know many other types of weaponry to asses the advantages and disadvantages and Emma seemed to grasp this faster than any other recruit. She was ahead of where he was when he was her age.

Slowly they circled each other, Cormac held his sword in the traditional forward grip his cat like eyes narrowing further, when suddenly she bolted forward he jumped forward and spun her body bringing her sword against his as she landed, he parried the blow easily enough, turning her body forward she brought her blade against his again he parried this as well, using her momentum she placed her other hand on the sword and spun around her feet still on the ground aiming the blade straight forward for his chest, he blocked this but Emma continued to spin bringing her blade around for another swipe to his side this time. Cormac flipped his blade so the point was facing the ground and as Emma's attack was shrugged off by the practice blade, quicker than even most witchers could move he spun around bringing the blade with him when he came back around he swung his blade low aiming for her legs. Then Emma did something he was not expecting: she dodged jumping over his blade with a spin she brought her blade down aiming for his head, he brought his blade up flat over his head and her attack caught nothing but wood.

She smiled at him and spun her blade so it was in a forward grip now; they began circling each other again. With both hands on the grip she charged forward and swung low for his feet he brought his blade low to parry and quickly in movements too quick for most to follow she swung and he parried until she aimed a straightforward lance to his stomach he parried the blow and knocked her blade out of the way using the momentum of her heavy strike to his advantage she spun her blade so as to right the grip but it was too late. An invisible force struck at her body and she was sent flying several feet away landing on one knee.

Aard, witcher magic, signs, signs were a form of magic that were simple one handed sign gestures, they were not as powerful as a mages spells but were extremely versatile when used correctly. She could almost hear Argus' lecture: "Though they are not mages who employ powerful magic, witchers can cast simple magic spells that can prove effective when used properly. Witchers call these spells Signs and usually use them against monsters, though they also have non-combat applications." Though at the school of the Cat trainers were more focused on the fencing training than anything else as opposed to the school of the griffin that had a larger focus on sign casting every witcher learned them the only difference was the level of skill.

Cormac had said in the past that he wouldn't use signs until she could use them too, in order to make it a fair fight. Obviously he had changed his mind, she had trained under him long enough to get the message, a monster wouldn't wait for a fair fight, and they wouldn't care. A witcher had to be ready for anything. Still she had to ask, couldn't stop herself really.

"I thought," she said panting, 'Damn that hit hard.' "You said you weren't going to use signs until I could too."

To her surprise he chuckled, "A monster isn't going to wait for you to be ready. About 20 years ago I took a pitchfork to the stomach, was on my deathbed for nearly a week, I was young and stupid. And you know what?" He paused a moment and pierced her with that stare that was infamous amongst her and the other recruits.

"It wasn't even a monster, it wasn't a soldier. It was just some peasant boy who's parents taught him that witchers were abominations." He finished heavily not taking his eyes off of Emma's. "Never let your guard down Swan not for one second because one second is all it takes." He got back into a fighting stance and smiled at Emma. "Now come on, Swan it's time to get to work."

She began to pick herself up and before she could even fully right herself he was on her again in a flash of motion he swung low but not toward her feet this time starting low he pulled the strike up diagonally across her body, she met the blow and used the momentum to spin bringing her blade down for another overhead strike, "Ha!" she shouted from the exertion. He again brought his blade up flat over his head placing one hand on the edge of it to help take the force for a split moment her blade sat on the edge of his and that was all he needed using his hand he slid the blade off of his own she pirouetted away from him but he did the same toward her aiming a hard strike for he mid section she was able to block but the force of the blow alone made her stumble back a step. Long enough for him to aim a boot for her stomach she fell backwards but used the momentum of the kick like he taught her rolling back to land on one knee.

Just in time to see the overhead strike that he'd put all of his weight behind, Emma leaned back and Cormac's strike caught nothing but air and the snow on the ground. The sound of the sword hitting the ground rather than her head was oh so satisfying. She ducked down rolling forward as he brought his blade up pirouetting in a full circle, his sword following the motion. Emma managed to roll forward to his now unguarded back, he was still recovering from his full swing, she pulled herself upright and brought her sword vertically toward his back.

'Yes!' She thought, she would draw first blood so to speak, when suddenly her body, all of her momentum just gone, frozen in place she could only watch as he completed another pirouette and this time his wooden sword struck truck landing solidly in her stomach sending her a few feet across the courtyard.

"Oof" Emma croaked as she hit the ground leaning up and grasping her stomach, she panted heavily for the first time letting her fatigue show. Her chest stung from both the blow and the effort to get air into her chest, 'Yeah that's definitely going to bruise.' Shutting one eye tightly she breathed in a few deep breaths, "How?" she asked with effort.

"Yrden," He began, and she remembered her lessons about it Yrden was a magic trap. Multiple symbols are placed on the ground, forming a circle; enemies who enter inside this area will be slowed down or apparently even stopped. She looked at him, at his feet and saw purple symbols in a circle on the ground; only a moment after she saw them did they dissipate into thin air.

"An extremely situational sign, no doubt and for most users it can only slow down enemies or even arrows down, but some develop it to the point where it can stop an enemy all together, this effect only last for a few seconds but its enough. Most of the time." He added as an afterthought, he looked down at her and smiled down at her though her attention was more on her bruised stomach now, she was improving everyday, she had lasted ten more moves than she had just last week. She still had a long way to go.

He puffed out a silent sigh and cleared his throat, "Your trials are tomorrow and I daresay you're my star pupil of this lot," She managed to grin but it turned out to be more of a grimace. "Do you know why the witcher's fighting style involves so many twists turns and pirouettes?" She sat up and shook her head.

"It's because of two reasons," He held up two fingers, "Because one no one else can do it, a knight in full heavy armor can't because his armor weighs too much, but we witchers wear, especially at the school of the Cat wear lighter armor, added on that our mutations give us faster reflexes and speed than normal people, we are the only ones who can fight practically using this style." He put down one of his fingers as Emma nodded along.

"And two, because the way we spin our swords and spin our own bodies confuses anyone who fights us, they either can't keep up with the speed of our movements or their eyes can't follow our swords, these methods aren't foolproof but they are effective." This wasn't anything Emma didn't already know but even masters could fine-tune the basics and Emma was still a student.

He held out his hand and Emma grabbed it using his leverage to stand herself upright. She thought about it, about the trials being not even 24 hours away. She knew of course, as they all did that not everyone would survive the process to being a witcher. She'd heard from Cormac himself that only three out of ten who took it would survive. Only a few of the other recruits knew about that part, and were asked not to spread it around. The rest would be told tomorrow and that would be their final chance to leave.

Although none of them had actually heard about the trials until about two days ago, the recruits were exceptionally talented at coming up with stories about them. She'd heard a more than a few stories about how painful and violent the trials would be. She'd heard about how one recruit's trial turned them into a striga, which was impossible because striga were all female and as far as Emma knew in the history of the witcher's being founded she was the first girl allowed to join.

She didn't know why women weren't allowed to join; since she was being allowed to take the trial it couldn't be that women's bodies couldn't handle it. It was probably just something sexist like women not being allowed in the army.

She'd also heard that the trial had once turned one recruit into a nekker, another into a penitent, and even one about some half-dragon hybrid. Though Emma could really care less about these tales they were certainly fun to listen to. There were twelve recruits in Kaer Gelen as of now but only four in her group, herself, Neal, Riordan, and Alvin. She and Neal got on the best but she was friends with everyone else, her partner in crime so to speak. She really wasn't worried about the trial however and neither was Neal, in fact none of them were.

Many of the boys taken to become witcher recruits had nothing to lose, some were orphans of war or bandit attacks like Riordan, some were street urchins like Neal, others were kicked out of their homes because their family's couldn't afford another mouth to feed. All the same, the people, here, they had nothing to lose, say what you will but the witchers certainly knew how to pick their recruits.

"But all things considered…you've done well." Emma smiled at him, unused to the praise, Cormac was usually a pretty strict teacher, which made her appreciate the praise he gave all the more as it was few and far between.

"Now go to the infirmary and get yourself patched up, I want you to read Draconids: A Study before the day is up—appendices included." He ordered with a smirk, Emma did excel at the physical aspect of being a witcher, but he knew that he couldn't allow her mind to break pace with her body.

Emma barely kept herself from letting out a growl but she knew that would only add to her workload, so she simply shuffled off with sunken shoulders. 'This is cruel and unusual.' She thought trudging through the snow back to the keep.

X X X

'Draconid is a hypernym used to refer to a number of large semi-reptiles, usually possessing six limbs: four legs and wings. A subset of the dragon species, the differences between the two is usually noted in the number of limbs as well as level intelligence. Notable members of this species include the wyvern, cockatrice and forktail.' Emma forced herself not to mentally scream as she read the same sentences for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the hour. She wanted to move on but just couldn't seem to which was really bad considering Cormac would most definitely test her on what she read later while she ran the gauntlet.

She stared out the library window into the courtyard, trying to get her mind off of the dusty old tomes she was reading. Riordan was running the gauntlet now; he was never very good at it unlike herself and Neal. The gauntlet consisted of several thin poles a witcher in training had to balance on while blindfolded. It sat on the far left of the inner courtyard near on one of the lower walls in the structure. In the center suspended by a tall wooden structure was a large log hung vertically. The witcher in training would have to run and flip on the poles as the log swung using only your ears really to detect where the log was, sometimes they were asked to treat the log as an enemy and given a wooden sword to strike it with whenever possible. On the left of the gauntlet was a wooden platform and set of stairs along with the rest of the courtyard and on the right was nothing but a scraggy cliff face. One misstep could mean the end for any unprepared.

The witcher instructors were not completely cruel they waited until the witcher recruits reached a certain point in their training to put them on the gauntlet, and then worked in stages until giving them the blindfolds. No one in her group had died, but she was sure someone in the past had, still in only increased their skill at fighting, and she was the best in her group undoubtedly.

"Head in the clouds again, Swan." She turned her head and saw Neal standing near the tall oak double doors leading into the library, he was wearing a simple white tunic and olive green trousers, she had seen him in the courtyard earlier but had lost track of him while she was staring a hole into the book she wasn't reading. He was a head taller than her, but it seemed she could always look right at him, never up at him. He had tanned skin and a tiny lilt in his voice that Emma had learned came from those who hailed from the Drevarian Empire to the south, an orphan begging on the street until Argus had found him and brought him back to the keep.

He had a muss of curly dark brown hair and the makings of a beard on his jaw and mouth. His eyes matched his hair and seemed to be almost black in quality, his body was lanky due to a recent growth spurt, he had become clumsier since he'd hit it, he had so much more arm and leg length than he knew what to do with. He seemed to be growing into it however.

She groaned softly, "I told you not to call me that." She said turning her head back to her book, trying to focus on the words. Ever since he'd heard Cormac call her that once he'd not been able to let it go, but it was reserved solely for her mentor. Neal had been relentless in teasing her and allowing the other recruits to learn about this was just as irritating. He got his comeuppance when he had been anonymously volunteered to sharpen all of the swords in Kaer Gelen. In truth Emma couldn't even remember where the nickname had come from it was just something her mentor had called her since she could remember.

He breathed out a chuckle, and made it infinitely more difficult to ignore him when he sat directly across from her straddling the chair instead of sitting.

"Can I help you with something or…?"

"You can," he smirked "We're going into the dungeon, and we want your help." Emma immediately got to wondering who "we" was but got her answer when Riordan stepped into the room behind the same way he had.

"Are you two out of your minds? Our trials begin tomorrow! What we need is some damn sleep." Emma huffed and distinctly turned her head down to stare back at her book definitely trying to ignore these two this time.

Neal 'tsked' with his teeth, "Emma, Emma, Emma, being responsible what the hell happened to the Emma Swan whose idea it was to go to the old witcher training facility," He stood up from his chair passionately. "What happened to the Emma who dreamed up the prank of the century to pull on Argus?" He was standing up on the chair now. "What happened to the Emma who wanted to run the gauntlet with no one watching over her!" He clenched his fist and closed his eyes.

"Look Emma, all we're saying is that we want to see all the stuff that's going to be used on us tomorrow, just a little preview of what's to come. I mean it is our last night of being human after all." Riordan explained and he did make a good point, it was her last night at least somewhat responsibility free, she might as well know what's in store for her. Neal sat back down and hopefully calmed himself down too while Emma rubbed a hand over her face.

Riordan was only a year older than the both of them, but no more mature, a year didn't really make that much a difference in the grand scheme of things. Suddenly Emma stood up from her chair with a smirk, the ancient wood creaking against the floor as she did so.

"Let's go."

X X X

The dungeons of Kaer Gelen were as the actual structure itself, the architecture seemed to give off the feeling that the building had been there forever; its architecture somehow gave off the ideas of both the classic and contemporary. It somehow gave Emma the feeling that the structure had been there long before her and would still stand be long after she was gone.

The dungeon was dark and old and dusty, and was definitely colder than the rest of the keep, probably due to the years of not being used. It fell into disrepair and every decade or so, Argus would decide to patch things here and there. Witcher's really had no use for the dungeon, they weren't soldiers, they didn't keep prisoners and monsters made for pretty bad ones at that. No, the dungeon was used more for storage than anything else; it's dark and dank appearance serving to ward off any wandering recruits who got any bright ideas.

Fortunately or maybe unfortunately Emma, Neal and, Riordan were not just the average recruits. They were all amongst the best that the school of the Cat had gotten in years, but that dungeon also held their future as well.

Emma held up her lantern to burn away the darkness from the landing at the top of the stairs leading into the dungeon, a pale white light fled in from behind the three recruits from the windows behind them. After taking a head count and making sure that all of their classmates were training in the courtyard. Three of the four instructors were also in the courtyard and Emma had taken note of Argus doing some research in his room earlier.

Meaning that as long as they weren't gone too long they could have free reign of the dungeon. They all knew that the tables were stored down there but none of them dared go look, the tables were surgical tables that the witcher recruits were strapped to to undergo the first of the three trials, the trial of the Grasses. Technically they had been undergoing a trial since the day they stepped foot into the keep. The Trial of Choice it was called, anyone at any point could simply tell an instructor that they couldn't continue and, they would be escorted to the nearest village and given a pouch of gold to help them on their way. During the Trial of Choice the witchers to be were put through extreme physical training, education in monster lore and a special diet of herbs, mushrooms and mosses. Some didn't survive dying from liver or heart failure but this trial and its training continued all throughout a witchers life. The Trial of the Grasses was the second and most perilous at least that's what Emma and her brood had heard.

Closing the door slowly the trio stalked down the stairs hyper conscious of even how many times they blinked. Their instructors had superhuman senses; they had learned to be a little paranoid, as they made it to the bottom of the stairs they saw numerous locked cells with bars on the door windows, when suddenly Riordan yelped.

"Shhhhh." Emma hushed staring at the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry! I think I felt something crawl over my foot." He explained in a hushed whisper, frantic. His eyes flicked everywhere in the darkness making sure no one was coming.

"Will you both be quiet? This is dangerous enough without all the noise." Neal harshly whispered, he walked to the front of the group and held out his hand to Emma expectantly, after she was sure her eye roll was sufficient she handed the lantern over. Neal slouched his shoulders slightly and began tiptoeing down the hall, his companions immediately on his heels.

"I think it's down that way." Neal rasped pointing to the end of the hall where the corridor broke off to the left. Emma and Riordan nodded behind him but belatedly realized he wasn't able to see it. Silently they made their way down the hall and to the left down another set of stairs where the hall was much shorter but no less daunting at the end was a door that.

"Ok," Neal started. "I think this is—" He froze, they all did when they heard the sound of the door leading into the dungeon open and close. Frantically they all looked from one another with comically wide eyes, before Riordan shot forward and began to pull the door. It was long enough to rest and drag against the floor so luckily it didn't make too much noise opening. As soon as the door was wide enough to squeeze through Neal scrambled in followed by Emma and then Riordan, they all pulled the door closed as soon as they were through. Neal placed the lantern on the floor and threw his shirt over it to cover the light and Emma nearly began chuckling when she remembered Argus used to call him 'bird chest.'

Though she managed to withhold her laugh, they all stood there silently not even daring to breath, they could hear the sound of coming footsteps. Suddenly they stopped for a whole ten seconds, or at least what felt like it there was nothing, and then suddenly they heard the footsteps retreating and eventually the door to the dungeon opening and closing once again. They all released an audible breath and Riordan even slumped against the wall putting his head between his knees. Neal pulled his tunic back over his head

"Shit, that was close." Emma very nearly panted out.

"You said it! Neal, I told you this was a bad idea." Riordan addressed their friend but Neal didn't respond.

"Uhh guys…" They turned to him and in front of him they saw it, four rows of tables stacked upon each other, though one extra sat alone and in front of the middle row. Slowly Neal made his way over to it and began running his hand over it. In the light of the torch Emma could see three sets of buckles one near the top, another in the middle and the last near the bottom.

"What the hell…?" Riordan asked in a puff of breath. "Do they mean to torture us?" He asked angrily, of course he didn't know about what the trial actually entailed, actually seeing the table was harrowing. Emma had a closer relationship to her instructor than he, so she knew more, she was practically raised here, but the rest of them wouldn't know enough to betray them if they one day decided to leave.

"No—" Emma started.

"All that work for them to strap us to a fucking table." He grabbed his head and started pacing while Neal was noticeably silent during this exchange Emma ignored it however.

"For us to become witchers…they have to change us, our bodies. So that we're stronger and faster. This is how we do that." Emma explained calmly.

"Don't you think I know that, Emma! But gods I went through all that training all that pain and suffering for them to just strap me to a torture table and what? Perform experiments on me, I knew they had to change us…I just didn't know this was the way." He was hyperventilating now and a part of Emma knew that she agreed with him, but the Trials began to tomorrow and she couldn't falter now. She'd waited and worked her whole life for this.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and his head jerked up, his eyes wild. "We made it this far for a reason, we were chosen for this, because it's our destiny. You survived all this and made it to this moment because of your will. You can choose right now; you've made it this far, you can make it a little further."

He calmed slightly, ever so slightly. "I don't know…"

"C'mon Ri' it's been the three of us in this for years, don't worry about 'what if', what will happen is all that matters and tomorrow is the destiny that we've all been waiting for our whole lives." Neal was one of the only others that knew beforehand about the risk involved with the trials, Emma silently and seriously nodded to him.

Riordan took a deep breath and smiled shakily. "Ok. I know I can't turn back after all this…thanks guys." Neal handed him the lantern and smiled back walking toward the door pulling it open a small gust of wind knocked the fire out but they were each more concerned about the six foot tall instructor and head witcher Argus standing right in front of them as they opened the door.

"Crap." Emma grumbled and the smile slowly fell from Riordan and Emma's faces.

"Now what are three recruits like you doing in a place like this?" He asked sarcastically, Argus was the tallest and oldest of all the Witcher's in Kaer Gelen. Cormac had told her he was nearly four centuries old, as Witcher mutations also allowed for severely extended lifespans similar to mages and sorcerers. He only looked to be about 60 years old but his name was mentioned in several of the ancient lore books she was made to read so she believed it. His head was bald whether due to shaving or just being ancient Emma didn't know. He had a few wrinkles on his forehead and hazel eyes; his eyebrows had turned ash white from age as well.

Like all witchers he had two swords immediately next to one another on his back but also carried a one handed crossbow next to them. It was strange that he did so because witchers didn't typically use bows, but Emma supposed whatever got the job done. His eyes like all witchers were catlike a dulled gold with narrowed vertical slits that seemed to glow even in the pitch darkness of the dungeon.

"Unruly children! Each and everyone of you." He scoffed, "But it was good of you to come down here. To help your fellow recruit is something that I've only seen a handful of times in this place." He looked around the room and corridor as if seeing the whole place, taking in its history.

"Don't do it again." Emma wasn't sure whether it was the helping out your fellow recruit part or this entire situation; his voice was so flat that it was impossible to tell.

"Yes, master." They all droned out and he smirked.

"Now come on, it's around time for curfew. It's a big day for the three of you tomorrow, we're starting you're trials bright and early tomorrow." He smirked knowing that bright and early probably meant around 3 in the morning they all groaned.

As they all walked back to the main foyer of the keep, Riordan nudged Emma and smiled at her whispering a thank you. She couldn't help but return the smile.

X X X

It was funny that the butterflies would hit Emma now, rather than the day before or when she tried to sleep. She and all of the other recruits stood in a line, each in front of a table to begin the trial of the grasses, hanging above each table were three flasks, the bottom was large holding liquids, the first and largest was red, then blue, then the smallest was gold. Each flasks opening narrowed out into a point rather than opening up not unlike a needle.

To the front of them stood Argus with his arms folded and eyes appraising. Next to him was another witcher Dain, she hadn't seen him around for the last month or so, even though he was a instructor, he had been running around the mountain and it's surrounding valleys gathering the necessary herbs for the trials. He was the alchemy instructor. Behind them stood Cormac and Rulf, Rulf was the only one of the four who looked worried, and on either side of Emma stood Riordan and Neal.

Suddenly after minutes of heavy silence Argus began. "Here we are at the beginning and the end. The end of your old life and the beginning of the new, for years you've been learning to fight as a witcher but to actually be a witcher is something else entirely. Each and every one of you have your reasons for wanting to be a witcher, for some it's destiny, for others its vengeance. But today and everyday from here none of that matters, each of us has our own Paths to walk. The first steps are always the hardest, as you will learn today. These trials can kill you." He warned.

Argus fixed all of the witchers to be with a stare. Some showed wariness, others, terror and some showed nothing.

"Monsters, no matter the reasons we all came here it all comes down to one thing: Monsters, the things we are sworn to hunt. I know that all of you came to this castle of your own accord, and we've given you every opportunity to leave if that is your wish. But choose today and choose wisely. In a few years you may come to regret the decision you made. Know that once you have started on this path that there may be no turning back."

Nearly all twelve of the recruits started shifting in place, second-guessing their choices that led them up to this point. Emma herself found herself thinking of different lives she could live. Was it really this? Was this all there was? Condemning herself to this life of monster hunting, to not having a family?

Did becoming a witcher mean sacrificing all of the happiness that might come her way? She could never have a child, never watch them grow up, never feel pride as they grew, or welcome them in the world. Never have grandchildren who would listen to the tales she told.

But she'd come so far, so far in her training, her destiny, to become a witcher and not only a witcher but the first female one as well. If she chose to back out now, how many people would she be condemning to death in the future, by not choosing the hard road now. How many people had Cormac saved from monsters, how many were better off for it? If she chose to leave now, after all of this she would have to get up in the morning everyday and look at herself, thinking 'coward', the easy road had never been for her and she wouldn't start now.

"Cormac," she whispered, "Tell me about my parents when this is done." Not looking back at him but keeping her eyes straight forward where they were she couldn't see his relieved smile.

"Have you made up your minds?" Argus asked looking them over one by one, Emma set her jaw. "How many wish to walk the Path of the Cat?" he asked and one by one the recruits raised their hands and Emma knew she couldn't back down now.

"I don't."

Emma turned to see the second to last person at the end of the line had called this out, all of the other recruits turned as well. One did not raise his hand, staring straight at the floor trying to hide his shame, his hands clenched tightly together. Benedict and Emma had never been best mates but she'd heard nothing but praise from Rulf as he was the only one who could compete with her, if it came as a shock to her, then it did doubly so for his instructor. She could see the shock on his face but he kept his firmly mouth shut.

For a moment a heavy silence fell over the hall before all eyes turned to Argus who nodded. "Very well, Dain will escort you to the nearby village, where you can choose to live the life you see fit. Whatever loose ends you may have here tie them up, you'll leave tomorrow." Dain escorted the boy out of the hall towards the rooms, everyone hyperaware of the door opening and shutting.

"Now then," Argus began heavily. "I hope there are no more of you who have had a change of heart." He waited a moment, when none responded he continued. "I'll explain each of the trials to each of you. Some of you already know this so I'll be efficient."

Emma made sure to listen harder for any information she might have missed. "The second is the Trial of the Grasses, in the past we'd feed the recruits several kinds of special herbs, but now we use these vials to inject the decoctions into the blood stream, giving us the same result but much less painfully. They will mutate the nervous system. I've explained the risks, as did your instructors before you came in this morning so those that survive will be gifted with drastically enhanced speed, strength and reflexes. Next is the trial of Dreams which will enhance your eyes, bones and various other aspects of your body to give you advantages over regular people. You will be able to see even in pitch darkness, you'll be able to hear everything to a butterfly's wings to a persons heartbeat, you'll be able to tell if they're lying or not. You'll be able to track by scent even after days of the scent being left there." Emma's excitement was childlike and grew with every word, her heart was racing but it wasn't with nervousness anymore.

"You've been experiencing the trial of choice for several years now but it's intensity will only after your trials. We'll have you go into the woods for days at a time to track faux targets. We'll increase the number of mosses and herbs in your diet to make your bodies more receptive to witchers' potions. You'll be trained day and night until you achieve perfection. The training will be grueling, but this is what it means to be one of us…what it means to be a witcher. So I ask again…does anyone wish to leave? After this there is no turning back." Argus asked seriously and when none rose there hands he smiled.

Emma looked at one of the boys standing next to her, Peter, his name was, he was smiling with wild abandon and Emma couldn't decide whether it was bravery or stupidity.

"Let's begin." One by one they were strapped into the tables, their shirts removed, though Emma kept her chest bindings on. Cormac slowly placed the needles into the veins in her arm, she gritted her teeth as they went in one by one. He scooped some olive and light green substance from a small bowl and held it to her mouth once he was done. She opened her mouth and accepted it, it was disgusting but not the most disgusting she'd had since she came to the Kaer.

"What was that?" She asked in a grimace, her eyes began to fall slowly.

"Hookweed extract to deaden the pain and Lemon balm to put you to sleep." She was already out. He folded his arms and his mouth set into a frown as he unlocked the stoppers in the flasks one by one.

"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly." Argus said, unlocking the stoppers on Neal's vials. Rulf and Cormac gave him questioning glances as they began their work. "Vakmeth scene one act seven." He answered the question never asked.

"Don't let that worry set in, it'll distract from your beauty." Came Rulf's gruff voice, Rulf was the same age as Cormac, in the same group they became Witchers some 80 years ago. Rulf was an ugly bastard, two nasty scars on his face from a werewolf attack ensured that years ago, but he was the nicest person one could hope to meet. His hair was long and dark brown tied into a ponytail, for the occasion he'd worn a simple white tunic and dark brown trousers.

"I guess you must've worried a lot then." Cormac immediately shot back.

"Nope, I was born ugly." Came Rulf's lightning response and Cormac laughed without being able to stop it.

Finally he turned his head to look at his best friend with a smile. "Thank you…but I'm staying."

He pulled up a chair and sat in front of Emma's sleeping form. Wordlessly Rulf did the same with a sigh. He'd complain but he'd stay.

Argus watched the two with a slight smile and then his face transformed into a blank mask. "You two stay with the recruits, I need to prepare for the next trial." He had more than enough time to prepare for the next trial but everyone knew he hated watching, silently the two nodded. He turned on his heel and left the room as Rulf rubbed his hand over his face, it was going to be a long night.

X X X

Emma woke up groggily, slowly, the light from the open window of her room blinding her, she put her hands in front of her face and squinted her eyes. Slowly she got up from her bed and walked over to her window in just her trousers and chest binding and placed her hands on the windowsill.

"You're awake." Came Cormac's familiar voice, if she didn't know better she'd think it was relief that filled his voice. She turned her head, to see him at the entrance to her room; she leaned against her window and folded her arms as he moved into the room. His face was a mask of calm and collected coldness.

"I…I don't feel any pain." Emma said almost disappointed, after all of the hype of how painful the trials were she couldn't really feel it. In fact she felt numb. Her voice was croaky from disuse and she cleared her throat.

"Not surprising. You were the last to wake." He responded standing a few feet in front of her.

"Oh." She breathed out. "Then who…?" She didn't finish the question or didn't want to he was unsure.

"Eight survived. Only three dead: Peter, Emil and… Riordan." He finished heavily and Emma felt relieved that that Neal had survived, but Riordan, one of her best friends had died in the trials. She felt like a terrible person for feeling relieved at this, and she noticed that Cormac was equally troubled. Her entire body language changed, as she slumped against the wall and shut her eyes tight as she willed herself not to cry. He was gone just like that, and she couldn't even say goodbye.

"Come on its time to start the next trial." He sighed, he really hated this, but it was necessary.

"So soon…I thought." Emma turned her head slightly to look out of the window when suddenly Cormac threw something silver at her, she only noticed as it was inches away from her face, more quickly than Emma knew she could react she caught it literally as it was a hairs breath away from her face she pulled it out of thin air and caught it in her fist. She went to glare at him but then realized what she had done, her eyebrows rose nearly into her hairline.

'I guess they weren't lying.' She thought surprised.

"You've been out for two days, Swan, usually it only takes one for this Trial to finish. Argus told me you were getting worse, but I knew you were only getting better." Slowly Emma opened her fist and stared at what was in her hand, a witcher medallion, by the glint of the metal she could tell it was newly made. She looked up at him with wide eyes and he nodded, slowly she placed the medallion into her pocket, typically witchers were not given their medallions until they'd finished the Trial of Dreams as well. His confidence in her meant the world to her.

He walked over to her and handed her a vial filled with black liquid, she popped the stopper and took a swig nearly choking. "What the hell was that?" She coughed.

He smirked at her. "Should help with the numbness you're feeling right now."

"Oh. So that's normal." She finished the disgusting potion and handed him back the vial, he pocketed it.

"Well…it's within the norms. Nothing about this is normal." He responded folding his arms. "The potion also helps to build your muscles, it helps to make sure that your body and mind are aligned with your new reflexes, your body must be able to respond to the commands of your brain. It's also your first witcher potion as it stands."

Emma nodded slowly and silently still dazed and groggy but she could feel the numbness leave and the pain enter her slowly but surely. Her fingertips were already starting to ache. "…And Neal?"

"Is fine, he woke up a little earlier than normal and was in a lot of pain, but he's fine now." She'd known Neal was alive but as for his state of being she'd had no idea, she felt relief flood her body again. "Seems like, he literally willed himself to live in fact."

"Yeah. Well that's Neal for you." She laughed. Cormac nodded sullenly remembering Riordan, he'd woken up in so much pain that they'd had to kill him rather than let him live in such agony.

"Let's begin." Emma said seriously, no point in dragging it out, leaving time for doubts. She was still a bit groggy from having just woken up but she felt fine all things considered. "Where is this trial held?" She asked with a sigh, suddenly exhaustion overtook her.

"Well, right here." To Emma's questioning look he answered. "The first trial can cause a lot of problems, cause recruits to turn rabid, leave them writhing in agony and so on, this trial is much more peaceful." Emma nearly scoffed but held her tongue, he didn't like this anymore than her.

"You drink the potions and fall into a lucid dream. This trial will mutate your eyes, bones, bone marrow and gives you the necessary levels of magic to perform signs." He finished heavily, this wasn't easy but it had to be done.

"What are the risks?" Emma asked realizing she didn't know them, the question had come out on its own, she probably didn't want to know.

"Nerve damage, paralysis, loss of your senses instead of enhancement." Emma sat on her bed as he explained them nodding along.

"Well aren't you just a charmer." She sighed. "What will I face in my dreams?" Emma asked

"It's different for every person, some face themselves, others face their greatest fears, Rulf once told me he saw flying pigs." Though Cormac long suspected he had lied about it, there was no reason to make the moment heavier than it was.

He pulled two new vials from his pouch and handed the first to Emma, it was green, almost the color of olives. "Drink the whole thing and don't stop." She pulled the stopper with her teeth and tilted her head back pouring the liquid down her throat; she realized belatedly how much it burned and how much she did want to stop. But she kept going, screwing her eyes closed.

She finished and wiped her mouth as he handed her the second vial, this one in a flask, much longer and rounded at the bottom. She growled low in her throat and snatched the flask from him, Cormac would have laughed were the moment not so serious. She gulped the thing down and realized this one was tasteless like water but was much thicker.

She lay back on her bed as Cormac stood over her looking down. "Don't die on me, Swan." It was the last thing she heard.

X X X

Emma truly hadn't been prepared for what this Trial had entailed, the Grasses left you with fear and anticipation and before she'd entered her dream she was beginning to feel the left over pain. This was something entirely different at least during the Grasses you were completely unconscious.

"Emma! Where are you Emma?" She was suddenly turned around and she was in a flat green field, it was very beautiful, the sun burned through the trees. On her left she could see a completely blue sea but she was focused on the woman standing in front of her. The woman was Emma's height, but older, fully-grown, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and her hair was long and dark brown but had her back turned to Emma, she was sitting in the grass.

'Who is this?' Emma thought, she'd never seen this woman in her life and slowly as though she were weighed down by the entire world she made her way to her one step at a time. She couldn't bring herself to look at the woman's face however whether it was the dream or the feeling of fear and anxiety that washed over her Emma didn't know. The shadow of a tree in front of them blocked any further hope of seeing the woman.

It was then that Emma noticed the child in the woman's lap, the woman stroked the girls hair gently, long and flowing blonde hair was strewn haphazardly from her lap and into the grass and she could see the woman's hand stroke it slowly and gently almost…

'Like a mother.'

The woman turned slowly as if hearing a noise behind her and as her profile began to come to light in the brightness of the sun, just as her cheek and nose became visible. A nose that reminded her of her own, everything fell away and the dream ended as she fell away into nothing.

Cold water splashed her face and Emma awoke with a start, nearly jumping out of bed. Seeing Cormac with a bucket standing over her, she almost screamed.

"Dammit Cormac! I told you not to…" Emma trailed off as she realized she was alive, more than alive in fact, she could see, like really see as though it were the first time. She could see how deep Cormac's scars went and his pores. She could hear his heartbeat and the near silent steps of witchers out in the hall to the stray cat that sometimes liked to run through the courtyard. She could smell the mint on Cormac's teeth, the smells of the potions still in his pocket, even the smell of the leather of Neal's boots down the hall. 'Holy Gods.'

She looked down at the small pool of water and realized that her eyes were like his, a dulled gold with narrow vertical slits. She grinned at her reflection and then up at him.

"Put it on." After a moment Emma realized what he meant and reached into her pocket pulling out the silver cat's head medallion she put the chain around her neck. She realized that the moon's pale light was shining in the room now and she pulled a shirt from under her bed and pulled it over her head.

"I made it." She breathed unbelieving, she knew this was her destiny, but after the twelve-year journey she'd finally reached her destination, everything felt surreal.

"You did." He said unable to keep the smile from his face.

"Did Neal…?" She started but didn't finish unable to voice her question.

"He made it…passed out from exhaustion a few hours ago. He'll be fine after he gets some sleep. Aubrey from Rulf's group and Richard from Dain's group also made it." He added.

"I thought the number was three out of ten, not four? Not that I'm not happy, just surprised." Emma asked as she pulled her medallion to hang out of her shirt.

"It's rare but not unheard of, in my group five survived." Cormac didn't mention that all except him and Rulf had died later that year but it was still poignant. Despite the fact that Emma spent most of the last two days sleeping she was still exhausted. She couldn't resist the heavy yawn that escaped her throat.

"Get some sleep Swan, we'll give the four of you a few days to get acclimated to your new bodies, but that's when the real work begins." He spun on his heel and left the room closing the door behind him. Emma smiled at his retreating form.

"Cool."


	2. The First Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's first hunt as a witcher.

The sound of steel against steel rang through the forest as Emma clashed with Cormac, for what had to have been the thousandth time. It had been a little over three years since she had completed her trials and Emma had only gotten better. She realized now how much Cormac had to have been holding back against her before she had completed them. Learning to fight while carrying swords on your back and while wearing armor, light armor granted but armor all the same was incredibly difficult.

Cormac swung fully using both hands bringing his blade all the way down to the ground as Emma sidestepped the swing, bringing her sword over her head she parried the next blow side-ways she spun around bringing her sword grip to a reverse she pointed the blade directly at him and struck forward. Bringing his blade up to knock her strike to the side and brought his blade up for an overhead strike, she stepped backwards and waited for the blade to reach hip level and then dove over the blade behind him, as she rolled back to a standing position she pirouetted her body swinging her sword in a circle blocking the lunge he had aimed for her stomach as she spun she made an almost imperceptible sign with her right, free hand.

The air around her came alight with fire in a trail that followed her hand in the full 360 degrees of Igni. Cormac only having a second to react pointed his sword at the ground and dug it into the dirt and an orange bubble surrounded his body, the flame was repelled by the aura. The orange bubble died out as the flames did and he brought his blade to strike horizontally Emma parried his blade up and he immediately brought it back down for an overhead strike. She met the blade with her own and the two were locked in a battle of strength. Cormac would win at strength every time, even though Emma's was increased thanks to her trials, his had done the same, he was stronger still.

Breaking from the battle she unlocked her sword from his and pirouetted behind him bringing her sword to a two handed forward grip, he spun on his heel as well swinging his sword to her side, pirouetting again bringing her sword the full 360 degrees again she knocked his blade away then she reversed her motion bringing her blade towards his unprotected side bringing his blade into a reverse grip he switched hands and their blades met once again. Emma's strike bounced off of his spinning again but before she could complete the motion, she felt an invisible force send her flying several feet backwards, not one to lose so quickly she used it to roll to her feet.

She ran towards him and he did the same their swords met with a familiar clash of sound, she brought her sword toward his face striking from right to left, which he parried, then brought it to the same target only swinging from left to right this time. He brought his attack aiming for her neck swinging widely in a full arc, as she ducked underneath only inches from each other she pulled herself upright swinging on the same wide arc he had moments ago, he mimicked her and ducked underneath. She spun on her heels sword in a downward grip knocked his sword away from her, she spun into a kneeling position aiming a strike for his knees, he brought his sword low to block. Using her momentum to his advantage, he deflected her sword bringing her to a standing position, their blades met again for a low strike, he then brought his blade across for another wide arc, she spun on her heel and leaned her head back watching as the blade passed over her face, feeling the wind itself break from the speed and strength of the action. As she finished her spin with two hands, she brought her blade downward and then straight up vertically, he parried the blow upward and pirouetted out of the way finally bringing the blade toward her middle horizontally, the blade struck true.

Emma gripped her stomach as she backed away, the blades were blunted but still hurt, Cormac finished his spin and held his sword straight up, he tilted his head in question and Emma shook her head.

Gripping her sword in her right her at her side, she raced to her mentor and he did the same, he wound up his strike as he ran toward her, raising her sword to eye level just as her blade was about to meet his she ducked underneath the blow and slid under the strike behind him, jumping up into a spin swinging her blade in a full circle again. He turned around just in time, but he wasn't ready to meet the full strength of her strike, attempting to parry the blow, his sword was knocked out of his hand as she completed her spin, her blade came to touch his neck but stopped there.

"Looks like I win." Emma grinned and she pulled her sword away from his neck and put it back in the left scabbard on her back. Witchers carried two long swords, silver and steel, both strapped to the opposite side of the body to the dominant hand. The steel sword had a straight hand guard while the silver had a hand guard that faced downwards; even the texture of the grip was made differently for the witchers convenience.

"Not bad recruit. Due to my brilliant teaching no doubt." He rasped, Cormac shrugged his mouth, as he went to retrieve his sword a few feet away. The blades had been blunted but he had to get Emma used to the feeling she'd have in real life, both of her swords on her back and all. In the last three years she had improved immensely since she'd taken the trials, she was good, almost ready to set out on the Path. The Path was the official name for what witcher's did, when they'd go to different countries and cities and villages looking for contracts. Emma was quite proud of herself and Cormac admitted to himself that he was too.

"Humility—a concept you might explore." Emma said readjusting her cloak.

"Not likely." Came his completely serious reply. It had been the first time in all of their years training together that Emma had beaten him in a spar, but Emma had learned quickly that bragging was not the witcher's way. She was so proud of herself for excelling faster than her peers at this, she truly didn't know whether it was something natural or whether it was she will to succeed that made her this way.

After three more years of intense training, among herself, Neal, Richard and Aubrey, she could say with some confidence she was the best among them. The more bookish art of learning, things like Alchemy and Monster lore came with time for her, but for Neal they were the easiest things in the world. Signs came to Richard and Aubrey as easily as the snows on the mountain. She herself excelled at combat, sword fighting, with a crossbow, name any weapon and she could fight with it. Just because it didn't come naturally didn't mean she couldn't understand it, after years of training to be the perfect weapon she was just as good at monster lore and alchemy, she could brew just as many potions as Neal had, just as well as Neal had. Signs were secondary, she focused all of her attention on Quen and Axii, the shield and the mind hex, just because she'd focused mostly on the two didn't mean her skill in the other signs were lacking, it just meant the skill level was more basic.

She could beat any of her peers in a fight, these days, but she wouldn't speak down upon their skill, they were good too in their own ways.

"You've grown a lot these past three years. Shown a lot of maturity, I think you're nearly ready to graduate." Emma really only heard the 'nearly' part of his statement and her ears immediately perked up.

"You said 'nearly' so I'm assuming that there's some kind of final test involved." She very nearly grew up her entire life at Kaer Gelen but she hadn't really ever heard of any more trials. Then again she had never heard of the trial of the medallion or the trial of the mountains but that hadn't stopped them from happening.

"You already took the trial of the mountains." Cormac began; it was more of an exam on everything a witcher had learned on monster lore and curses rather than anything physical. She'd scored nearly as well as Neal had on that test. "Usually the final more unofficial test is that the Witcher-to-be takes on a contract. I've heard tell of a contract in a military encampment to the south actually. The mentor's aren't allowed to interfere but I'll help point you in the right direction." Cormac stated heavily, it was finally time to see if Emma would sink or swim on her own, he had confidence in her but it was still nerve racking for him.

"But won't it be trouble if a recruit gets killed?" Emma was doubtful, she knew she was ready but she also knew throwing someone off of a cliff to see if they could fly wasn't always the best idea. "I mean our numbers are already few."

'Is it 'our' already? Don't put the cart before the horse, Swan, there's still one more hurdle left.' Cormac thought. "It's true. There aren't a lot of recruits that survive the trials. Your group was the most promising in years in fact." Cormac sighed. "But to answer your question, yes we do get involved if things get too wildly out of hand but we really aren't supposed to get involved."

"So when do we leave?" Came Emma's excited question, she was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Cormac's face was a blank mask, but there was something under his eyes. "Tomorrow, at dawn. We'll go back to the keep and you can get to packing and get some rest, it should take us some time to get there, even on horseback."

X X X

Neal hit the ground with a heavy thump, and held up two fingers in surrender. "You always been this good, Swan, or have I just always been this bad?" Emma held out a hand to help him. "Shit." He coughed.

Neal had grown into himself more and more over the years; he was calmer and less fidgety than he had been in years past. He had also become quite handsome over the years.

"Cut us some slack, Emma. I mean you were practically raised here after all." Explained Richard, seated on a bench under the shade of the awning in the courtyard, they'd all been training together, all morning. Since there were four recruits and four instructors things worked out pretty well, most of the time the training was one on one. Sometimes the recruits went entire weeks without seeing each other.

Aubrey nodded in time with Richard's statement. "Unfair advantage, I think." He said hopping down from the top of the awning where he was seated. He landed easily enough, Richard had grown to be the biggest of them, almost a mass of pure muscle, but Emma knew that's where his weakness lay, he was slowed down by all of that muscle. He'd shaved his head as well, it's length often got in the way while he was fighting so he did away with it all together.

Emma however simply kept her hair in a ponytail unless she was asleep or bathing, she'd always hated the idea of cutting her hair for whatever reason. Maybe because it was so cold at Kaer Gelen during the winters, she placed their practice weapons on the weapon rack and walked back over to her friends.

"Do any of you want to challenge my rule?" Emma taunted, knowing that none of them would really want to face her, she was the best and they knew it.

Aubrey watched over the scene with an analytical eye, Emma was the best at the school and they all knew it. In terms of combat and alchemy, as well as tracking she was a master, and he knew that Neal was the only one who could hold a candle to her but he had just gotten thrown around like a rag doll. So he simply held his hands up in surrender knowing how it most definitely end for him. Aubrey had come to the school the latest out of all of them but had still taken the trials at the same time as they had. He'd received considerably less training than any of them when he'd gone for the trials so; he still had a little while longer to go before he could graduate so to speak.

Aubrey had been apprenticed to an apothecary who lived just outside of his village when he was taken as an as apprentice so he had a lot of skill when it came to alchemy even before he'd started training. Alchemy could be just as important as swordplay when it came to living a witcher's life, knowing how to craft a bomb to blind your foe, or creating an oil to dip your blade in that would cause extra harm to werewolves was a priority. Richard looked like he was going to say something but then wisely closed his mouth, he was nearly as a good a swordsman as Emma, the hulking man, but raw strength rarely beat out pure skill, but he would get there someday soon.

After graduation probably, when the skills they learned here had been applied to real life. In a witcher's school there was no "graduation" per se, that was just an impromptu name given to it by the students. Once the witcher had learned everything there was to learn they set off on the Path and that was it, there was no piece of paper or celebration or anything. The mentor's blessing was given and then that was really it. Unlike most schools, once the witcher recruits got to a certain level of skill it was really up to them for when they wanted to leave. The mentor's trusted the student's judgment and the long years of training made them strive for perfection any which way.

"We'll have plenty of time for that after graduation, Emma, besides I'd like to see what we both fight like with some actual experience under our belts." Neal said shaking his head, whether he was being honest or just trying to avoid another beating, Emma wasn't sure.

"Speaking of which…?" Emma started. "Any of you guys ready to leave the school yet?"

Neal shook his head again, working out the kinks. "Almost just another few months, just need to put some fine tuning on what I've learned." Emma nodded, she'd noted nearly half a dozen imperfections in Neal's technique during their little bought. Though a normal person wouldn't take note, that was the thing about being a witcher, the differences between Neal's skill level and Emma's was nearly unnoticeable by those who weren't masters of swordplay.

"Still you're pretty close. Richard what about you?"

"Almost, just a little work on my alchemy and my tracking." He said with a sigh. "The last potion I created induced vomiting."

"That must've been fun." Emma joked.

"Considering I had to test it, yes. Yes it was." Richard said with a completely straight face. "What about you Aubrey?"

Aubrey let out an audible sigh. "Oh, sure I've just got to work on my swordplay, tracking, signs, archery…" He trailed off, his tone was long suffering, at the rate he was going it would take another two years to graduate, he'd probably leave by the time the next set of recruits got here. Wanting to change the subject he asked Emma.

"So, Emma what about you?"

"Actually…I've got my first contract tomorrow." They all stopped in place and stared at her with wide eyes, she looked incredibly proud of herself.

"What, holy shit Emms,." It was Neal who said this though by the looks on Richard and Aubrey's faces they were thinking the same thing. "Damn I didn't know you were that close to leaving."

"Neither did I, but this morning Cormac just kind of dropped it on me and…well." She gestured with a shrug, though she couldn't deny the happiness she was feeling. She'd known she was close, but not this close.

"Damn, I gotta catch up." Richard nodded and Aubrey followed suit, feeling even more left behind than before.

"So what do you know about the contract?" Richard asked.

"Honestly next to nothing…just that it's in the southern part of the country and that its been given by the commander of a military unit stationed there." She said folding her arms.

Two years ago Callorene's neighbor Kingdom Lyria had invaded the country, unprovoked. Well not entirely unprovoked, after years of bad blood due to Aedirn standing idle while Lyria itself was victim of a brutal civil war; a bastard child of the late king believed he was the rightful ruler of the country moreso than his half sister. In the end the bastard child claimed the throne and led a bloody campaign against Aedirn, who did not support his claim to the throne.

When they'd invaded two years ago, they annihilated much of Aedirn defense and took much of the south and the west for themselves. They however were not prepared for the winters of Aedirn, after very nearly slaughtering the defense over half the country, they were halted by the harsh snows and after that came the hunger, and the two countries had been locked in a stalemate ever since. Despite being located in Aedirn, witcher's had always notoriously been neutral, so they were given a lot of freedom these matters. The subject had been a spot of contention between Richard and Aubrey, Richard hailing from Aedirn and Aubrey from Lyria.

Wanting to avoid another screaming match between the two young witchers, Neal thought quickly. "Congratulations, Emms, seriously."

"Thanks, Neal. I mean that, you've all been such great friends to me."

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye? You haven't left yet." Aubrey joked trying to lighten the mood. He wasn't afraid to admit he was a little jealous of Emma's advancement.

Emma was beginning to feel guilty, perhaps for leaving her friends behind, or maybe it was nostalgia or maybe it was just sadness. Knowing that they would probably never be together like this again, because a witcher was a lone hunter, the only time witchers were really together in groups were when they were at the schools. Occasionally, two witchers would gather to hunt the same monster but that was rare. Really rare.

Neal pulled out a flask from his pocket and handed it to her with a nod. Even with the lid sealed she could smell the rum. She gave him a questioning glance and he just smirked, she pulled the top off of bottle and took a huge swig before passing it back to Neal.

If it was here last night like this she might as well enjoy it.

X X X

It took them nearly four days of riding to reach the village of Clearhill and the trip was exciting for Emma because it was her first time so far from the keep in years. They arrived at there crack of dawn and the village was quite a site, it looked fairly untouched by the war, but appearances could be deceiving; a large battle had been held at the beginning of the war and the army stationed there was having trouble getting rid of the corpses, though she and Cormac were miles away from the site of the largest battles, the enhancement of her witcher senses gave her the ability to smell it even from here.

The village of Clearhill was once well to do, being famous throughout the entire country for its fruit and wine orchards, but it was the first place that Lyria hit when it attack when it invaded the northern country. The village was peaceful and had no formal military, just a few men paid by the lord to guard the fields so it was caught totally unawares when they were attacked. It was a massacre, and the lord and his small home were taken within the same day. The small castle was now the sight of the Lyrian army posting. The black white and red knight banner now flew over the village rather than the blue and black hawk.

It was quite sad, Emma thought as they rode into the small clearing that held a small forward camp, through the wooden defenses, large spiked wooden spokes pointing up from the ground encircled the camp, but left an opening at which two men stood on either side. In the distance, miles away to the north she could see lord's now derelict castle. She looked up to see that a number of holes had breached through the castle, moss was now growing in a number of cracks on the outside of the building. It stood massive, a tower of brick and mortar, now nothing but a memory of those who came before. These soldiers were simply the advance scouts of the larger force at the castle, which partially explained why their numbers were so few.

She and Cormac dismounted their horses simultaneously and walked up to the two men guarding the camp, two spears they held crossing over each other blocking the entrance. Emma noted inside of the camp she only heard one other heartbeat within the camp. That was exceptionally strange, to have a forward camp with only three soldiers.

The soldiers noticed them and immediately stood up straighter. "Military Camp, no locals allowed without the consent of the commander." The soldier on the left said, all business, his garb was typical of those from Lyria, red and black leather light armor.

"We look like locals to you?" Cormac asked with as much sarcasm as he could muster, gesturing to himself and Emma, they wore grey cloaks over their armor but that didn't stop their swords from being visible on each of their right shoulders.

The soldier on the right scoffed, he wore a helmet that covered the top of his head but that left his mouth and eyes visible. "You look like trouble." He very nearly growled.

"The opposite, in fact we make trouble go away. See, we're witchers." Emma said joining in the conversation gesturing to her medallion. The two men seemed to notice her eyes now, one of the telltale signs of witchers everywhere.

"A witcher...?" The one on the left said in wonder. The two soldiers shared a look and lifted their spears to grant them access. "The captain, Captain Leif Addelwold, is in the camp, just past us."

"You lot, from Lyria can be nice when you want to? You learn something new everyday." Emma muttered flatly.

"Don't get used to it, Mutant." The man on the left growled and Emma narrowed her eyes, before she could respond, the soldier on the right ordered.

"To the Captain. Now." Not wanting to make a scene she simply brushed passed the two and into the camp with Cormac on her heels. He'd said he wouldn't get too involved and she hoped he would stay true to that. She could handle this.

In the camp toward the back right, a large pole stuck up from the ground and atop it flew the flag of Lyria. There were tents in the camp and numerous cargo containers Emma noted.

'Much too much for these few soldiers.' Emma thought to herself as they approached the Captain. He had a full beard, typical of one from the Summer Isles, it was a reddish brown and a full braid as long as Emma's own hair fell down his head, his eyes were hazel. He smelled of sweat, sawdust and…copper. Emma noted, using her witcher senses was not a choice; they were apart of her now just as her enhanced strength and speed were.

"No one has been summoned today. So I can only assume that you two are here for a very good reason." The captain turned from the table he was standing in front of, Emma noted a map in front of him but ignored it.

"Perceptive. Emma Swan, Cormac of Antil. Witcher's." Emma introduced herself and her companion, he scowled at her jab and he seemed surprised at the two witchers' presence, but not shocked looking them over, he nodded his head. Cormac was then reminded of how much he hated his title, early in their training witcher's were asked to select a name that sounded like a knight, so as to make themselves sound more trustworthy and respectable. Cormac, had only been to Antil once and he'd hated it,

"What is it that you seek here?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hear you've got a contract." Emma explained, finding the notice in the village square was easy enough; no one was fool enough to take it. Waiting for a professional to show up was always the smart thing to do.

"Mmm. Yes, we've had some, manner of beast trouble us over these last months, some of my men, just three days past were on a patrol near the cemetery, they did not return. The next day, the gravedigger from Clearhill found them, recognized them only by their armor." He said shivering, remembering the sight, in all of his years fighting in this army or that, he'd never seen anything so horrible.

"The locals also, reported some…thing in the cemetery last month, digging up graves but I simply put it to being simple grave robbers. Before that the inn keeps boy went missing near the cemetery as well, but he has yet to be found." He cleared his throat, in either embarrassment or shame, Emma couldn't place it, but it didn't matter.

Emma resisted the urge to tell him how foolish he was for ignoring, the locals for over a month and moved on. "Some questions before I start, I need more information about this creature."

"Shall I bring you witnesses?" He asked, half sarcastically. "The only one to have seen this creature and live was the cobbler, she lives at the far end of the village, near the cemetery."

Emma shook her head, though talking to the man would be useful, she would get more information out of something more ghastly. "I need to see your men's corpses." The captain made a horrified noise in the back of his throat.

"What use could you possibly get out of that?" He asked nearly growling, he was being sentimental, wanting to preserve the dignity of his men. But to find this creature, this was what Emma needed.

"If I examine the wounds on the bodies, it'll help me determine the kind of creature behind this." Emma nearly sighed. "I have to admit, I'm curious, why do you even care about this creature?" Emma asked, before it'd killed his men, he'd have no reason to care and the notice had been posted nearly a month ago long before his men had died.

"Alright…fine we were to cremate the bodies tonight but…if it'll help, the bodies are in that hut down the way." He pointed down the road, to a small shack within walking distance and Emma nodded. "And to answer your question, the truth of it is, we crushed the Calloreni army here, and we've managed to work out a shaky peace between us and the locals, but they are still countrymen, are they not? How much would it take for them to turn on us, to say we are not protecting them?" He sighed and Emma nodded.

"Before we get started…there's one more matter. My pay. Witcher's don't work for free." Emma reminded.

"Yes. Yes. Since the dawn of time, no witcher has lifted a finger without pay. I'll pay you what's in the notice, not a copper more." The garrison at Clearhill was stretched thin, anyone could see that and Emma let her common sense take over; if she demanded too much, she probably wouldn't get paid at all. She nodded, 200 gold pieces was pretty fair as things went.

"Alright, time I get started. Thanks." Emma nodded her thanks as well and turned on her heel out of the camp. Mounting their horses they made their way toward the hut.

"You handled that well." Cormac said.

"Really. I think I might've been able to haggle with him a bit more."

"No, you were right not to. These soldier types don't take kindly to such a thing, were he a merchant or a noble, perhaps…" He trailed off and Emma breathed sharply out through her nose as they arrived at the hut, the stench of the bodies and their decay nearly overwhelmed her and she was only outside.

"It's time for you to take over, Swan." Cormac, said lowly, looking directly at her. Emma's eyebrows rose skyward as she looked back at him. "I told you, I'm here solely to observe. I'm going back to the inn at the village."

Emma nodded and reached her right hand out toward him, he returned the gesture solemnly. "Good hunting, Swan." She watched him ride west toward the village until he disappeared into the distance. She dismounted her horse and tied its reigns to a tree that shaded the hut, lone in that it was the only tree nearby; many had been burned in the war effort. It was then that she walked over to the hut and slowly opened the door, its creaking heavy in her ears.

Opening the door to the hut she was confronted with a number of smells, the oil in the unlit lanterns, the wood warped from years of being stepped on for years, the smell of fish; catfish lay on a desk on the left of the door underneath the only window in the shack. The sun's rays flittered through the window giving a small amount of illumination to the room.

She could also smell a number of herbs: fool's parsley, cadeline, cortinarius, and crow's eye. But atop of all of these smells, the one that overtook them all, nearly overwhelming Emma was the scent of rotting flesh. It was never a pleasant smell, especially with enhanced senses, a dead body; it was a pungent nauseating smell. Turning her head, she saw laid out on the floor where three bodies, covered by plain white blankets, she could still see the outline of the head, the arms, the legs underneath.

After a beat, Emma slowly made her way over to the leftmost body, and pulled the cover back. No matter her training, she was not prepared for this. Nearly throwing up at the sight of the man she could barely keep herself together, but cat-like eyes focused on their target.

Kneeling next to the man, she put her mind to work. She started at the head, noticing a number of purple marks on his neck she tilted her head to get a better look. She could see that the man's neck looked even stranger than that.

"…Bruises on the neck, crushed larynx. Strangled. Neck snapped." She concluded, after a moment she gently turned the body over and noticed a cut in the back of the neck. She moved her head closer to get a better look. "His bone marrow…it's been sucked out. Need a long, thin tongue for that." Turning the body back over with great care she pulled the white sheet back over the man's body and moved onto the next victim.

Pulling the sheet back down the next man, she noticed many of the injuries were the same as the previous man. "Except." She said looking at his arms, noticing long jagged cuts up his forearm as well as his pelvis. "He's got defensive wounds, put up a fight before he died. Saw what killed his friends." She said looking at the startled facial expression his face was locked in now. Pulling up the sheet she moved down the line to the final victim.

The final body was entirely different from the previous two. "One cut across the neck. He was the first to die, the one all of the way on the left was the second, knew what was coming but couldn't even get his guard up. The last was the one in the middle, tried to defend himself. Failed. But...the beast fed on the other two, not on this one…had its fill? Or saving him for later? Interesting." She made a noise in the back of her throat; even now she was getting a clearer picture of the kind of creature that was committing these attacks. Before she made any conclusions though she would have to talk to the cobbler and go to the cemetery.

Exiting the shack, she made her way back over to her horse, her horse whinnied upon seeing her and she placed her hand on her snout. "Whoa, there Atlas. Here." She pressed a sugar cube up to her mouth, which she accepted gratefully. Atlas was a young mare, just recently brought to Kaer Gelen before she'd left. She was a large brown horse from Antil, which was known to produce very fast, yet very unruly horses. Untying the horse from the tree she mounted her.

"Let's go girl." Then they rode off to town.

Clearhill was a beautiful village. It'd certainly lived up to the reputation that it garnered, it was no city and the people there were not exceptionally rich but still there was a beauty in the simplicity. There were to about fifteen houses, and a few on the outskirts of town such as the herbalist and the blacksmith. In the center of the town sat the inn and everything else seemed to be built around it.

Toward the edge of the village to the south, sat a path, it went on for nearly a mile and then upwards on a hill leading up to the cemetery. At the beginning of the path, parallel to it sat the cobbler's home. A modest, hut for one in such a profession but a home none the less. Outside of the house was a fence and two poles sticking up from the ground connecting back on the house on rope, numerous clothes sat on these lines. More importantly a woman stood outside, in front of these lines fussing with the clothes. Lost in her own world she did not hear Emma approach.

"Excuse me…?" Emma began and the woman turned around surprised, a witcher's footsteps often went unheard.

"Hm?" The woman began, she was old, 50 or thereabouts. She stood a head shorter than Emma and lankier too. Freckles dusted her face lightly along with a small almost imperceptible scar on her nose. Wearing a blue and white dress that went all the way down to her feet, Emma could tell the dress was old; family heirloom perhaps as the bottom was caked with mud.

"I hear you've had some trouble lately. Some graves have been dug up." Emma finished.

The woman sighed, but looked directly at Emma's eyes for a moment and then turned her head in the direction of the cemetery. "Aye, master witcher, but if only that were it…Every now and again the creature would come 'round the graveyard, devour whatever was fresh and then move on. Started again, none too long ago. Thought to meeself, 'just don't step out after dark and lock the door tight.' But then one of the young one's went missing."

"The innkeep's boy, right?" Emma prodded and the woman nodded her head.

"I'd heard something that night, like a whimper outside me house." The old woman shivered.

"Didn't come out and see what was happening?" Emma asked, not accusing, simply curious.

"D'you think me daft? If you've monsters, you need a witcher." She scoffed at Emma's question.

'That's sensible.' Emma thought nodding her head for the woman to continue.

"I did see the creature before it took the young one…must've been a moon ago now. I was visiting me man, bringing him flowers at the cemetery, was there so long I didn't notice it were night. Then I saw it, coming up the opposite side of the hill, out the forest. It were hunched over, and clawed hands and fangs!" She exclaimed retelling her story. "I ran before I could see anything else."

"Interesting…" Emma muttered almost to herself, eyes focused toward the ground lost in thought. Catching herself before the silence went on too long. "Helpful. I'll see what I can do about this beast."

"Thank ye, master witcher." The woman nodded her thanks and returned to her clothes. Mounting her horse again she rode off toward the cemetery, she was there within minutes and noted the wall of rock that surrounded the place. The wall was low only coming up to about Emma's hip; two slightly taller stones separated by a distance of about ten feet indicated the entrance. Emma noted several headstones, but even more unmarked graves in the site. In the center of the small graveyard was a small temple, only small enough for a few to fit in at a time. It held numerous jars and an altar sat at the center of it.

Dismounting her horse she walked into the cemetery, she, heard a growl, too low for normal ears to catch and a heartbeat, rounding the altar was a dog. No normal dog however, much of this one's fur had been singed off and it had a wild look in it's eyes. Emma held out her hand and the dog immediately bared its teeth, sighing she made a gesture with her hand.

Axii

A white glow seemed to shine behind the dog's eyes now and after whimpering for a moment the dog jogged straight passed Emma into the forest.

Wild dogs. Even more dangerous than wolves, burned and kicked but often never killed, would always be a consequence of war.

"Okay…time to get to work." Emma said and she scanned the graveyard for any clues, immediately she noticed a grave, the dirt looked loose, open. Walking over she knelt next to the grave. "Dug up. No tools used, though." The dirt on the side of the grave had been flung everywhere; it was too sloppy for a shovel or a hoe to have been used. Knowing there where no more clues to be found there now she righted herself.

After a few minutes of searching she found another grave near the small temple, the dirt had been overturned, several times. "Definitely, not using tools. Claw marks right there." Looking at the jagged slices in the dirt and at the top of the headstone. Noticing footprints in the dirt she followed them behind them temple where a large unmarked grave sat, the dirt had been loosely packed back onto the grave, numerous rocks and grass sat in as well. Sloppy.

Kneeling next to the grave, Emma observed the grave. "Been dug up…recently." She sniffed. "Smell of the cadaver's old though. Overripe. Wonder where that stench will lead me." Standing back up she to another strong whiff of the air and followed the scent of the corpse into the wood's on foot. Pulling Atlas along with her by the reigns into the woods, she began her trek.

The woods of Clearhill were quite peaceful, trees and deer populated the place once upon a time, but now all Emma could smell was the stench of wild dogs, corpse and burned wood. Much of the forest had regrown since the large battles had been fought, but wounds left scars and this forest would be scarred for a long time. After following the scent for nearly an hour, Emma came upon a small hut in the woods, it looked burned to a crisp, the wood had been blackened, but somehow the structure was still standing.

"A hunter's cabin…?" Emma wondered aloud, tilting her head. She focused her senses and could hear nothing inside, nothing breathing, nothing moving. All around her though she could hear the sounds of the forest, deer, birds, grass ruffling and the like. Walking into the hut, she opened the door slowly, tensing her body she leaned her head in and peered around. As she walked closer to the door her medallion began vibrating, more and more steadily as she made her way toward the door, tensing for a while.

Seeing and hearing nothing she made her way into the blackened structure. Moss grew in through the cracks in the wood, part of the roof had caved in and the wood still sat on the inside of the hut. Smelling it before she saw it, she looked up to see a cow's hide hanging from the scaffolding of the roof that was still intact. Very nearly tasting the copper in the air, she looked down to see blood staining the floor of the hut.

At the end of the hut, near a boarded up window she saw a large bowl, blood sat in or around it as well as a large butcher's knife. Kneeling next to it, she examined it. "Beast can use tools…means it's sapient. Or just plain clever." Emma muttered to herself.

Looking around on the opposite wall, she saw a cauldron, suspended by three sticks, above what looked like what had been a fire, the scorched earth and the smell were what gave it away. "Looks like someone's been doing some cooking." Peering into the cauldron, she saw bones, human. "A human femur." Noting the size a moment later. "A child's." Emma could barely keep the horrified gasp down, now knowing what became of the innkeeps' boy. Her medallion was shaking violently now.

Next to the cauldron were three human skulls, next to each other but each facing in separate directions. Her medallion' shaking leveled out more steadily now that she was near the skulls. "Human skulls in a magic circle. Monster's clearly drawing strength from it as a place of power. Gotta be a grave hag." Emma surmised, she remembered a number of things about grave hags from her lessons in Kaer Gelen but it would be best to consult her bestiary for information.

"Collected the skulls to channel Power through them. Confidence grew and it started prowling the village." Emma concluded, all of the evidence pointed this way. No way she was wrong. Places of power were places where magic was exceptionally focused and strong, they could either occur naturally or as a result of black magic. Witcher's had their own brand of magic, Rulf had once given the example the mages and sorcerers could use magic like a language, stringing together complex sentences and phrases, but witchers only knew the alphabet being able to make simple 'sounds' but even she could feel the power in the skulls. She made her way back outside.

In Atlas' left saddlebags, sat a book, the heaviest thing Emma brought with her including her swords was her bestiary. Every witcher owned a copy, and they were available at a number of academies in the world, they contained information on almost all the monsters one could come across. Though the information wasn't as specific in books that came specifically for that monster it was good enough to serve the needs of witchers on the Path.

The tome was old, many of the pages yellowed, but it was more reliable than most books published now. Opening she pulled the pages back to the section on Necrophages, then onto the section on Grave Hags:

"Cremation, now that's one thing men could learn from dwarves. Burying bodies out in the fields, why, it's like laying out a welcome mat for monsters! Best-case scenario, some ghouls will sniff them out, eat their fill and be on their ghoulish way. But if, gods forbid, a grave hag takes to feeding at your cemetery, you'll have no end of trouble. -Jacques de Villepin, Belleford Academy.

Few monsters' names fit as well as the grave hags'. As one might guess, these creatures resemble aged, deformed women and loiter near graveyards and battlefields. Grave hags feed on human corpses and in particular on the rotten marrow which they slurp from human bones using their long, prehensile tongues. Once a hag has devoured all corpses within reach, she turns to killing men and burying them in the cemetery as she waits for them to decompose."

'Grave hags use their tongues in combat to grab or flog their victims. Claws built for digging up buried bodies serve just as well as weapons to rend flesh. Though clumsy in appearance, grave hags move and attack at great speed—sometimes even a witcher's reflexes are too slow to avoid their blows.'

'Grave hags are territorial creatures. Their lairs resemble caricatures of human homes and are built near burial sites. They venture out at night to hunt, stalking straggling travelers or mourners too lost in their grief to notice the setting of the sun. On rare occasions hunger-driven grave hags will hunt during the day. They are less dangerous at such times, for sunlight weakens them considerably.'

Emma read the passage to herself, twice over to make sure she didn't miss anything and placed the book back into Atlas' saddlebag. "I should take the skulls. Force it back to the cemetery. Corner it there." Making her way back into the hut, she collected the skulls gently and then placed them into one of Atlas' saddlebags. "That should piss it off." Looking outside, Emma noticed it was only noon and Grave Hags were not known to come out until at least mid-night.

"Got time to prepare, brew some oil. Drink some potions." Grave Hags were vulnerable to necrophage oil, she knew. She would have to gather the necessary herbs to brew the oil. Oils made of the right ingredients could be like a poison to monsters if used correctly, and she had enough time to gather it. Anything that could give her an advantage.

'Okay necrophage oil is made of the flower arenaria, rubido and bison grass…better get started.'

X X X

After Emma had gathered the oils and brought the skulls back to the cemetery, she realized she still had hours left until night fell so she did what any witcher would do. She meditated, meditation for witchers was a technique that was almost like sleeping, all they had to do was clear their minds and they would enter a state of semi-consciousness and could remain like that for hours. Cormac had once said he could do it for a full 24 but Emma had a hard time believing that because it was so hard for her to do.

Emma could meditate, for maybe six hours at a time if she was lucky but it didn't come to her as easily as it did for Neal. She was always too anxious, her mind wouldn't quiet, always ready for the next fight. She assumed that it was some kind of character flaw, but it was just who she was. However, sitting there for hours with nothing but her own thoughts to accompany her was not exactly helping her nervousness either.

This would be her first fight with a monster. A real monster, that'd killed, three trained soldiers and a little boy, what would make her different than all of it's previous victims? Her stomach flip-flopped with all of the nervousness she was feeling. It felt like a fire had been started in her chest, Emma's eyes remained closed but her face set into a noticeable grimace.

Emma was afraid. Much as she hated to admit it, for all of her training, all of the hours spent drilling, on the gauntlet, practicing, the trials, she could die. Right here right now, tonight it could all be over, all of her training for naught. Emma swallowed her nerves but they came right back up. Sitting cross-legged in the temple, she couldn't even feel the cold of night. Deepening her breathing she focused instead on the sounds and smells around her. The smell of the grass, the crops, the river water, the sound of the deer, the birds, even her own heartbeat, counting it's rhythm.

But she could not forget. She couldn't forget how terrified she was, how her body was trembling right now. How she was breaking out into a cold sweat at this very moment. How—

"Stole themm—" Emma's eyes snapped open and her head turned in the direction of the whisper, to the west in the direction of the forest, then she heard footsteps to her left, just outside of the cemetery. Shakily, Emma got up on her feet and walked outside of the temple, brandishing her silver sword in her right hand; spinning it once. Her medallion began shaking lightly as the footsteps grew closer.

"Thief, skulls she stole…my skulls ought to dig up her own." The whisper was coming from just within the tree line, beyond her vision, behind a tree.

Pointing her sword forward with both hands on the grip, Emma snarled. "Come out and fight, bitch!" She growled into the night.

It seemed to have worked as the beast came forward from within the tree line, the beast was just as terrifying as the descriptions had foretold. The creature stood hunched over while on it's back was a skeleton. It's arms were long and lanky, and it's nails were replaced by sharpened claws at least a foot long. Its skin was a ghoulish grey with completely white iris' and long overgrown fangs for teeth. Tattered clothing covered some of its body, but the stench was the worst. Like a corpse that had been sitting out in the hot sun all day, Emma nearly vomited but she steeled herself.

The creature attacked first, rushing forward with surprising speed, swinging it's long claws out quickly but sloppily, Emma sidestepped behind the creature and delivered a spinning strike towards it's unprotected back. The strike hit its mark, cutting the skeleton off of the creature's back as well as creating a diagonal cut from shoulder to hip. Emma backed away immediately but she was able to see the skin that had been cut literally steam from the oil she'd used.

The beast swung out wildly in retaliation but Emma had already backed away, rushing forward again the creature surprised Emma, as it reared its head back and swung it's mighty tongue out, pink, but covered with green venom, Emma dove forward and rolled out of the way. Not stopping for one moment, once Emma came out of her roll, she spun and struck the beast's unprotected side, spinning the opposite direction she hit the creature's back jumping and spinning downward she hit the Hag with a downward vertical strike.

It roared out in anger and pain and Emma though she'd won, but the thought left her mind as quickly as it entered it as the creature spun around, its tongue slicing Emma's armor but not breaking skin. Just as quickly it brought down it's arm for a diagonal strike which caught Emma off-guard and cut through her armor and skin. Barely jumping out of the way of another strike, she looked at her right forearm that was bleeding heavily with three long cuts on it. Emma hissed in pain, but she wouldn't stop now.

Bringing her free hand up she made the gesture for Igni and a fountain of flame sprung forward from her hand. A continuous stream of flame sprout from her hand and the creature brought its arms up to protect itself but it didn't matter, after a moment the Grave Hag caught fire. It screeched so loud she was sure that the entire village below would've heard it but she didn't stop. As she felt her magic drain from her the flame from her hands stopped and she did a jumping spin forward bringing her sword down onto the creatures torso. She continued her dance, whirling with her sword in 360 degrees.

After a moment the magical flame on the creature died and it seemed to get its bearings backing away quickly from Emma's latest strike, it retaliated with it's own. Emma parried the razor sharp claws and jumped away. Ignoring the pain in her arm with a small hop backward she was out of range. Pulling her crossbow from her back but hiding the movement, she allowed the beast to get closer, as it's arm rose skyward to bring down for another strike, she fired a bolt into it's hand and dropped the bow.

The beast roared in pain and retracted its arm to its side, growling at Emma. Just as Emma began to lose feeling in her right arm as well the hag rushed forward with surprising speed and with it's good arm struck at Emma, Emma barely managed to block the blow, it's claws whispering against her face, as she could feel a sting on her cheeks.

With one last motion from her injured arm she managed to throw the sign for Aard, an invisible force knocked her foe off balance for a moment, but that was all that Emma needed, with all of her enhanced strength in her good arm she swung her sword diagonally down it's body from overhead. The creature was struck so hard it spun around and fell to the ground with a final growl it fell to the ground and Emma listened for a moment. Dead. Placing her sword on her back with a long release of breath she reached into her pouch and pulled out a vial of an orange liquid. Popping the quark with her teeth and spitting it out she chugged the entire drink down in one gulp.

Swallow was one of the most important potions that a witcher could use or have. Even the witcher's who were terrible at alchemy knew the formula for this potion. Symbolizing spring and rejuvenation, the swallow lent its name to this potion that accelerates the rate at which wounds scab over and heal. As a universal brew, it is good on many occasions and additionally produces no side effects. Even after a few moments of drinking it Emma could feel some of the feeling return to her injured arm.

Looking down at the beast, she sighed, trying to release all tension from her body and it worked for the most part. Picking up her crossbow, she placed it on her back and pulled a large sharp dagger from a pocket on her leg. Taking one last look at the beast she knelt down and got to work.

X X X

It was surreal honestly, to have finally finished her first contract. She and Cormac rode together back to the small military camp, the hoods of their cloaks drawn up over their heads. Though quickly, she and Cormac noticed, they weren't there, the two found them easily enough, near the hut where Emma had first examined the victim's bodies. Though what she saw the soldiers doing made her shift uncomfortably in her saddle.

The three soldiers stood in front of a woman, Emma recognized her from when she'd ridden through the village, and she'd been trying to sell her wares at the market. Unlike most she'd greeted Emma with a smile from across the way, as opposed to the scowl, most people reserved for witcher's.

"For the crime of adultery, looting, and the deliverance of defective goods. By the laws of Lyria and King Antony, first of his name, you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging or torment." The Captain ordered, though his voice was grim, Emma could see something else behind his eyes. The woman for her part hugged her own body and stared directly at the ground, shaking with tears. One of the soldiers Emma saw guarding the camp earlier delivered a punch to her stomach so hard the woman doubled over while the other set up a noose on a tree. Emma's hands gripped the reigns of her horse so hard her knuckles turned white.

Next to her she heard Cormac mutter. "Don't meddle, take the reward and let's just go." She could hear in his voice that he didn't like this either but a witcher's duty meant staying neutral. The woman seeing the two witcher's approaching reached up from her position on the ground and shouted: "Help me!"

The soldier shoved her back down to the ground, as they drew closer the Captain approached them, holding a rather large sack. "Knew you witcher's wouldn't scorn even our gold." There was definite mirth in his voice, Emma unhooked the large sack from her saddle and it fell to the grass, the blood-soaked bag slid down after a moment revealing the beast's hideous visage.

"Tough hunt?"

Emma turned toward him with all the scorn she could. "Tougher than yours." She growled, he tossed the sack at her and she snatched it from the air testing it's weight she put it in one of Atlas' saddlebags and began riding away from the men. She could hear the captain spit behind them as they passed but couldn't bring herself to care. They rode at an agonizingly slow pace. Emma could hear the woman struggling behind them as they dragged her toward the noose; she heard the woman cry and the noose tighten around her neck as she choked.

"Argh!" One of the soldiers shouted. "She bit me."

"Take her down, do it my way." She could hear the noose loosen and the woman fall back to the ground, as the dragged her back across the ground toward a tree stump. "Get the hammer."

Emma remembered a quote by Geralt of Rivia, the most famed witcher of all time, in the bard Dandelion's stories he'd had many great quotes but Emma could only remember one right now. She stopped her horse and breathed heavily. "Evil is Evil…Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit, I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all."

"Men. Stop." The Captain ordered to his men, and Emma released a breath she did not know she'd been holding. "Let's have some fun first." She heard him unbuckle his belt. Emma's head snapped back with fury and she dismounted her horse like a woman possessed, she heard Cormac sigh almost imperceptibly under his breath.

"Make it quick, Swan." Emma started to pull her steel sword from the bedroll on Atlas' back but put it back.

Stalking toward them like a wolf did its prey, the Captain turned around shocked at her presence was pushed out of the way so hard he stumbled and fell backward. The next man had his back turned to Emma and was similarly pushed down. The final soldier was holding the woman, which she could not escape. He released the woman in order to defend himself but it was too late. Emma made a gesture with her hand and Aard sent him flying several feet across the field. Emma turned to the woman who was now hunched on the ground. "Close your eyes."

The two behind her were still picking themselves up, so when the man she'd hit with her magic came rushing back toward her she was more than prepared. He raced over attempting to club her with a blackjack, but she simply grabbed his arm and redirected his weight throwing him into the other soldier. Grabbing the blackjack out of his hand as the Captain grabbed her from behind she smashed the blackjack into the soldiers face knocking several teeth loose. She elbowed the Captain hard enough that he was forced to loosen his grip, she spun around and punched him in the nose forcing him back, she pulled her dagger from her left leg pant.

As one of the soldiers rushed toward her she grabbed his arm and stabbed under his armpit, the other soldier rushed her and she knocked his fist away with practiced ease stabbing him in the heart. Spinning around, she swiped her blade across the other soldiers neck, he fell to the ground with a shocked look on his face.

The captain on the ground still clutching his face backed up with his hands, fear evident on his face. "Wha—what are you doing?!" he managed to stammer out as Emma stalked toward him.

She grabbed the front of his armor dragging him to stand as she thrust the knife into his chest. "Killing monsters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here's chapter 2. That trailer that they had for the game was just to awesome not to recreate. Next chapter I think will have a pretty significant time jump and don't worry we'll get to the main plot soon. Please read and review.


	3. What's Happening and What's Going On

Graham walked into the room of the Small Council, every step in his leather boots heavier than the last, until he came upon a large steel door and he pushed it open easily, after all this time he still felt like a stranger in the castle Ernmore, in the capital of Kovir. Upon walking into the room he was greeted with the sight of his Queen and Lady Tinkerbell, the arcane advisor to the crown for the last five years. Queen Regina wore a dress that was a dark crimson, with a flowery fringe at the neck. The sleeves hung gently around her elbows and the bottom of the dress pooled near her ankles. The sash ribbon in the middle was held with a tiny flower pin, and her neck held a beautiful, diamond necklace. 

While Lady Bell wore a simple yet elegant dress was sequined all over. It’s rich green color brought out the best features in her. It was strapless, which showed off her collarbones and her petite shoulders. Graham had always thought that the green clashed with her complexion a bit but then again he was not here for his fashion advice.

Still he felt severely underdressed, he’d spent the last few nights in the barracks and wore a simple brown leather jerkin, trousers and black boots. A simple patch on his left breast to signify his standing in the army and his sword at his hip and bow on his back. Looking at the both of them he resisted the urge to reach up and comb out his hair.

“My lady, your Grace.” He dipped his head, and saw that Regina wore an even more serious than normal expression on her face.

“Do you have any idea.” Regina began slowly. “How my father made this country so strong?”

‘Ah, it’s to be one of those days.’ Graham paused a moment thinking. “Hmm. The dimeritium I’d wager, my Queen.”

“You’d lose that bet.” She snapped quickly, as though she were speaking to a child; no he’d seen her speak to children she was speaking to him like he was an idiot. "My father’s father was a banker and he always had a mind for it yes, but his court was full of idiots and for three decades. Alone, he saved this country from economic depression, made it the strongest nation outside of Dreveria.” She paused, somehow the heat growing in her voice and Graham felt distinctly uncomfortable seeing his Queen speak freely like in such a way. 

“Selling everything in the mines? Stripping them bare? Where’s the wisdom in that? Much harder to build a strong state with healthy commerce, strong alliances, manufacturing, a strong education system, progressive sciences and independent courts that hand out just judgements.” To Graham’s ears his Queen sounded impassioned if he didn’t know better, but everything he knew about his Queen told him the opposite. She ruled well, but coldly, and with calculated precision, she cared but did not let her emotions cloud her judgement.

“My father managed to do just that.” She continued. “Through years of Gods damn hard work. I refuse to sit on my hands as that fool ruins it!” Her voice cracked like a whip and though Tinker Bell knew the Queen longer than any other living, even she was startled by the pure anger in the Queen's voice.

“So that’s why you’re doing this for Gods and country?” Tinker Bell dared; the Queen had always allowed the blonde woman a bit more rope than almost anyone else but she may have just tested the limits of their friendship.

“No. I’m doing this for me.” The Queen’s statement hung heavy in the air and neither of them dared speak any other words.

“So, will you two help me. Will you two help me kill our king?” She looked both of them in the eye, first him and then Tinkerbell, but he got the distinct feeling that she was not looking at them. “Silence is your answer. Cards close to your chest.” Her tone was not angry, a shock from the one she’d taken just moments ago. “Killing a King, not so simple as anything either of you have done before. Think on what I’ve said and if you decide you’d rather change the course of history rather than riding its current course into hell, then you come and tell me.” She finished softly, softer than Graham had ever heard.

She turned to leave and though she was the one who’d come to them, almost begging for their help. Graham felt distinctly small, her footsteps thudding in his ears, and he felt dumbstruck, what the Queen was suggesting; regicide. Even the word burned in his mind, King Leopold had always been good to him, taken him from being a hunter, a duke’s hunter but a hunter nonetheless and molded him into a great general in his army. Saw something in him that no one else had and made him great and yet...the King was an idiot. 

While the tourney’s the King threw were good for the moral of the country he was quickly amassing a large amount of debt. He also cut much of the funding from the mage school in Kovir--Lan Shire, where once every potential mage dreamed of visiting and learning at this academy, it was losing it’s excellence. More than once after the King had settled a dispute, it flared up again weeks later, he couldn’t be bothered to remember the names of his vassals, tempers between the nobles constantly flared but none dared to say anything because when he needed to distract from how bad his rule was, he threw another tourney.

None of this warranted regicide...but there was something else, the soldiers that he’d posted outside their room got drunk and told him about the things they’d heard in that bedroom. He thought for a long time that it was just the talk of drunk men but the thoughts wouldn’t leave him. He’d never dared to ask his Queen if it was true, something in him just knew.

“Regina...this is a lot you’re asking for.” TInkerbell broke his thoughts with her own unsure voice.

“No, Bell. Tell me where your loyalties lie. What is being done to the mages in other parts of the world is a tragedy, and we cannot let that happen here. Don’t tell me what is happening to your brothers and sisters isn’t bothering you.” Regina, though a mage, never considered herself one of them, not like Tinkerbell always had. She paused a moment. “A side should always be taken, even the wrong one.”

The King had also allowed the Church of the Eternal fire to set up in one of the cities and they were already spewing their vile brand of hatred about mages and everything else they deemed non normal, these sermons had already incited two riots and a library had been burned down. Though the burning of the library had happened in the same city, no one could directly connect the burning of the library to the Church it was too much to be a coincidence.

The King never trusted his wife, never trusted Bell, only kept them around because he was supposed to, afraid that they would hex his mind, so he forced them to wear special bracelets that negated their magic and restricted their ability to walk around the castle unguarded. He even sprinkled salt around his doorway at night to ward off spirits.

“You know where my loyalties lie, to a country, to a people, to a Queen...to a friend.” Tinker Bell started shakily but by the end of her statement, her voice was steady with confidence.

“Then do what I ask.” It did not befit a sorceress, let alone a Queen to beg, but it was obvious to Graham’s ears.

“Ok.” Bell answered heavily. “Ok.” She repeated more for herself than either of them.

“And you, Graham?” Regina turned her head toward him.

He looked to her with heavily lidded eyes. “I think you already know my answer, your Grace.”

She smiled and something in her smile unsettled Graham, something that made him uneasy. But it was too late to turn back now, he was in too deep the moment he walked into this room. 

“Then let’s get to work.”

X X X  
5 months later

'Wolves asleep amidst the trees

Bats all aswayin' in the breeze

But one soul lies anxious wide awake

Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths.'

Claer sand to herself, kneeling down into the ground she picked up a doll, presumably left there by a child earlier. She hugged her cloak closer to her body to shield her from the cold of the dead of night.

“Nice tune. Been awhile since I heard it last.” A voice came from behind her; she dropped the doll back into the door and standing upright. Turning her head she saw a woman standing at the edge of the forest, just several feet away from her. The woman’s hair was blonde in a loose ponytail, immediately her eyes flew to the silver medallion around the other woman’s neck, even here she could see the medallion trembling lightly in the moon’s pale light.

The woman gripped a sword tightly in her left hand, the hand guard making a V shape around the pommel. Another sword rested in its sheath on her back, and even in the pitch-blackness of the night she could see the dull glow of the woman’s cat-like eyes.

‘A witcher.’ She thought with a smile. “Folk have forgotten it.” She muttered turning her head back to look straight in front of her, at the pond that sat at the homestead’s edge.

“…Got other things on their minds.” The other woman responded after a moment, Claer could almost hear a sigh, not of annoyance or anything of the sort, but of exhaustion, resignation. Claer turned her body toward the other woman coyly, with a shy smile.

“Things like me?” She grabbed the top button of her cloak and reached her other hand around to let her hair down from its bun.

Emma sighed more audibly this time. “They paid me for you.” She replied grimly, it’d taken her all of two days to track this woman down and she was ready to end it, but she wasn’t happy with the way she knew it was going to.

Claer began to unbutton her cloak slowly, button by button as she began stepping closer and closer to the other woman. “In times past no amount of coin could convince a witcher to take this contract.” Her voice became harsher and harsher with every word, becoming more like a whisper. More like several gusts of wind as she spoke.

“Times have changed.” Emma growled ominously but even as the woman grew closer and closer she didn’t change her stance keeping her sword gripped tightly, but not changing into a battle stance. As the cloak fell from the woman’s shoulders, a gust of wind suddenly blew past Emma all the way into the barn of the homestead, it’s large doors opening and closing with the force of the gale. When Emma turned her head back to where the woman was standing, the only evidence that the woman had ever been standing there was the now empty cloak.

'So, I was right; a higher vampire. A bruxa.’ Emma breathed out sharply through her nose and stalked slowly over to the large barn past the fence, stopping just outside the door, focusing her hearing she could hear a steady heartbeat; slow, only about two beats a minute. Contrary to most fictional literature vampires were not undead and living beings could not be transformed into them. Vampires were born, not made which made Emma’s job all the more difficult.

Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a flask, after a moment she popped the flask and poured its contents down her throat. Gritting her teeth as the black liquid burned all the way down her body and she could feel her whole body strain trying to accept it, she could feel the blood turn to fire in her body and her pupils dilate. A single drop of blood fell from her nose and upon meeting the ground it killed the blade of grass it landed upon.

Pushing the large barn door open, it groaned and creaked into the silent night, the moonlight flooded into the abandoned barn Emma realized she could not see the other woman, but she could smell the stench of death…and there was the heartbeat again. Her yellow eyes slid shut as she focused her senses once more, walking forward, she pinpointed the source; above her in the barn’s scaffolding. Opening her eyes once again and scanning the room, she could see a bit of a disturbance in the light on the top right portion of the scaffolding. Reaching over to the left side of her belt and grabbing a small bomb. Made of sulfur and quicksilver solution, moondust bombs were incredibly effective against all manner of monsters.

“Have you fought one of us before witcher? Of course not. You would be dead.” A disembodied voice boomed around the barn walls.

Unlatching the bomb from her belt slowly as to hide the motion and pausing a moment after she tossed the bomb up toward the scaffolding, upon impact it detonated spreading silver dust all around the area. Most importantly however, it spread an outline of silver dust over the invisible creature. In an instant the figure jumped down from its position on the scaffolding down toward Emma. Landing with a thud only a few feet from Emma and with a roar that echoed off of the barn walls it charged Emma.

Swinging her sword toward the creature’s head with a pirouette, Emma’s strike was met with the creature’s arm. The skin of a vampire was much stronger than even Emma’s silver, so even hitting the hardened flesh was like hitting a brick wall. Changing tactics quickly, Emma pulled her sword back and swung in a wide arc toward the creature’s head, but Emma could see the figure duck underneath the strike with reflexes even Emma could hardly keep up with. Swinging back in the same arc but lower the creature leaned out of the way. Emma then brought her sword overhead and down for a vertical strike but the figure parried the blow with its hardened flesh quickly reacting, Emma used the pommel of her sword to strike the creature’s face, the first strike that landed, the sound of steel against flesh sounded so satisfying, Emma thought. But the creature barely flinched away from the blow, in fact Emma was put on the defensive as the figure’s clawed hand strike toward her face, forced to lean out of the way of the blow ducking underneath it quickly Emma brought a hard fist against the torso of the creature causing it to stumble back a step. With two quick strikes that were quickly parried Emma was put on the defensive again, with a third strike that the creature quickly knocked to the side the creature. It was then that the creature’s power of invisibility wore off, leaning into Emma’s face and roaring.

The bruxa's skin is ghastly pale, wrinkled, and somewhat transparent, rendering visible the blood vessels underneath. Her white pupils and blank face contrast sharply with her feminine silhouette. The long scarlet claws were marked with the fluids of a recent victim. Emma leaned back, almost able to taste the pungent smell of blood on the creature’s tongue, she was however unable to dodge the creature's claws that dug into her ribs. Only missing her heart due to the quality of her armor and pure luck.

Reacting quickly, Emma grabbed the creature by the throat and choke slammed her to the ground, using the creature’s strike to her advantage. Bringing her sword straight down to the dazed creature, her strike missing by mere millimeters as the creature became like a shadow again, moving like a whisper of wind and quicker still. Grabbing her ribs, Emma spun on her heel and scanned the barn for the creature, realizing the vampire had become invisible again, Emma sighed.

As soon as the breath left her mouth a large wheel barrow that had sat at the far end of the barn came flying her way, almost too quickly for Emma to react, making a hand gesture an orange aura of energy about four feet wide surrounded Emma’s body, the wheelbarrow broke against the ball of energy snapping into several pieces of wood. The ball of energy dispersed against the fore of the object, and before Emma could react a near invisible figure was upon her again, attempting to bring her sword up Emma felt an iron grip envelop her wrist almost to the point of breaking it and before Emma could even think to respond the sword was torn from her grip and flung across the room.

A hard punch slammed into Emma’s jaw and she felt a hand grip the collar of her armor. Flung against the left wall of the barn so hard she bounced off of it and before she could even land completely a hard kick to her torso tore the breath from her. Crawling onto her hands and knees, Emma groaned and gasped in pain. Stumbling back to her feet, she heard the shuffling of footsteps behind her and began to turn her head. Before she could complete the action she felt a grip on the top of her head and shoulder, holding them apart.Then she felt more fangs than she could count enter her neck. If she was not so out of breath, she would have screamed in pain.

For several seconds all Emma could feel was the blood being drained from her and in a futile manner she reached up to try a push the creature’s head from her to no avail. Then the vampire released her unclasping her fangs and iron grip from Emma’s neck and pushing her away, Emma stumbled down to a knee and in the corner of her eyes she could see her silver sword laying in the dirt only a few feet away.

Panting heavily, Emma gripped her neck in pain and turned toward the vampire, blood dripped from its fangs as it began to stalk toward Emma slowly. It liked to play with its food first. Fussy. Lowly it hissed in its throat, each step growing ever closer when its movements halted suddenly, staring at the ground, almost contemplatively.

Slowly the veins in the creature’s neck and even some in it’s face grew black and the vampire began to make several choking noises in it’s throat. Emma was brought back to the potion she drank before the fight. Black Blood.

Emma pushed herself to her feet with great effort and the creature looked at her and roared. Readying its attack, but it was weak now, with a hand gesture the creature was sent flying across the room by a near invisible wave of energy into the back of the barn wall. Bending down to pick up her sword, Emma panted out a few quick breaths. Weakly the creature walked back over to Emma, brandishing it’s left arm for and attack, the difference in its speed was noticeable now that the poison was in effect. Emma leaned out of the way of the attack and with one quick slice the vampire’s arm was severed only a moment later lying limply on the ground.

The creature howled in pain, pirouetting she spun on her heel and her sword sliced cleanly across the torso of her foe. The creature fell to the ground and began to scramble away on its knees out of the barn into the pale moonlight. Putting her silver sword back into its sheath, Emma pulled the crossbow from her back and fired a bolt at the fleeing creature.

The bolt made its landing into the back of beast’s upper thigh, the new wound began sizzling, as Emma had dipped not only her swords, but also the arrowheads of her crossbow bolts into the vampire oil she’d made earlier. The creature stumbled; it’s movements slowing to a crawl as Emma fired another bolt into the creature. When the second arrow made its mark the creature fell completely to its stomach, under its own weight falling into the dirt.

Emma stumbled over to the fallen creature, placing her crossbow on her back and digging her hunting dagger out of her boot. As Emma made her way over to the creature, exhaustion overtook her and she fell, completely wiped of energy. Falling into the dirt, she turned her head toward her fallen enemy with a sullen look. In death, the vampire, the bruxa, had gone back to the appearance of the beautiful red-haired woman young woman who Emma had seen earlier. Emma’s mind wandered into a dark place as exhaustion took her and she drifted off to sleep.

Emma awoke several hours later with a gasp; pain filled her senses as she felt the numerous cuts and bruises from the previous night begin to sting with full force. The sun hung low in the sky, Emma noticed as she turned her head, the vampire she killed last night, the corpse lay in the dirt, dried to a crisp by the sun, was nothing more than melted flesh and bone. The stench of decay strong and heavy in the air. Emma was used to it by now but it still wasn’t pleasant she felt her hunting knife still in her hand and after a moment’s hesitation, she pushed herself to her feet and got to work.

X X X

Hours later, after having collected payment from the contract giver, Emma made her way to the nearby tavern, Granny’s. It’d been almost two years since she’d been in the village Saxondale, such was a witcher’s life, always on the road, on the Path. Emma sat near the back of the tavern alone with a shot of rum and her gold, counting it making sure it was all there. More than once she’d received bronze coins painted gold or people had gone back on how much they agreed to pay her for her work; plus it always felt good to count her coin. She’d been having a lot of luck on the path lately, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about now but still old habits die-hard.

Especially now that she was in the Kingdom of Kovir, things could possibly take a turn for the better. Kovir and Povis next to Mahakam, the dwarven mountain state was the largest source of dimeritium in the world, three quarters of all of it was produced in this single kingdom. Dimeritium was a rare and precious metal with an interesting feature; it repressed the transfer of magical energy. Though it was technically two seperate countries Kovir and Povis were ruled by one leader, hundreds of years before hand Kovir had seceded from Redania and decades later Povis followed suit and because of its location on the Gulf of Praxeda it was the world's largest importer of goods. b

A bluish alloy of iron and dimeritium could be used to produce handcuffs and necklaces. Those who wear them cannot cast spells or use magic in any way. This was an incredibly useful method when guards needed to capture mages as shackles could be made out of the stuff as well. More crudely for a witcher such as Emma, dimeritium bombs could be produced to block a monsters magic abilities; monsters such as Elementas or Leshens. It was extremely ironic that the largest producer of anti magic in the world had sorceress for a queen. Queen Regina had come into true power only about five months ago, after her husband had died.

“Hey there, stranger.” A smooth voice greeted her, Emma looked up, apparently she’d been lost in thought again, to not hear the woman a mile away, but she hadn’t. A slender woman with long black hair that traveled greeted her nearly down her whole back. She wore a red cloak that draped her shoulders and dropped down to her feet. In her hands was a wooden circular tray with several shot glasses.

Emma grinned at the woman. “Ruby.” Emma greeted her old friend, Emma had met Ruby five years ago, she’d been given a contract for a werewolf in the area and after a long investigation, and Emma had sniffed her out but decided not to kill her, when she learned that Ruby had only killed in self-defense. Ruby had given her a tuft of fur as proof of the kill and they had split the reward, Emma had explained that unless she returned with proof, they would keep sending people after her, and after Emma no one else had come for her. They had been friends ever since and whenever Emma was in town she stopped by to catch up. The discount she got on booze at Granny’s was also a nice side benefit.

“How’ve you been, Ruby?” Emma asked with a smile, she’d made a few friends in her time on the Path and Ruby was definitely her closest.

“Good, good. And you? Any luck on the Path?” Ever since they’d met Ruby had been fascinated with witcher’s and what they did. But Emma suspected it was more about the freedom the life had to offer rather than being a monster hunter, Ruby had lived in this village and worked at this tavern her entire life and it made her long for freedom and adventure. Emma never really had the heart to tell her that while she loved the life she had, living on the road was not always what they wrote about in adventure novels.

Emma chuckled. “Yeah, actually, a lucrative bit of luck in Torrine, a merchant who dealt hired some dwarves to gather some lumber for his business and only one returned one day after all of the work had been done. Told the merchant that some beast had killed all of the other workers. Then he hired me, turned out to be a leshen, young. It was a tough fight but I managed to kill it and got the reward.”

Ruby listened with rapt attention to Emma’s, she was a bit disappointed to be honest. Emma only would ever tell her the basics of the story while Ruby always wanted the details, every last one, but she knew better by now than to ask.

“A leshen?” Ruby asked curiously, it wasn’t a monster she’d ever heard of.

“Sorry.” Emma said taking a shot from the glass. “Leshens dwell in the woods and they’re pretty territorial too, they use magic to control the plants and animals in the woods where they dwell. Half the fight is just getting near enough to them to be able to strike.” Emma began to pour herself another shot, glancing up at Ruby.

“Oooooohh.” Ruby nearly squealed and Emma smirked. “So that black horse outside, is she yours?” Ruby gestured outside the window near them, there was a saddled black horse, Ruby had never seen the horse before so it wasn’t one of the regulars at the tavern, plus she could catch Emma’s scent on the horse from inside the tavern.

“Mmhm. Name’s Brego. I never told you how I got her?” There was a hint of humor in Emma’s voice as she turned her head to look at her mare.

“No don’t think so.”

“Well I was travelling through the forests near Ellander about a year ago, saved this knight. You know: dark, a pack of wolves, standard fare, he asked me what I wanted in return and I told him give me the first thing you see when you get home. Lucky for me his mare just gave birth , she’s a purebred Temerian war horse, the kind they only give to royalty and war heroes.”

“Emma and Brego, bound by fate an enchanting tale.” Ruby joked.

“Mock me all you want, you’re just jealous.” Emma returned taking another shot, it would take a lot to get drunk but she could do it if she set her mind to it.

“So, are you going back to Kaer Gelen for the winter this year?” Ruby finally asked and Emma was silent for a long time. It’d been two years since she’d been that far north and there really wasn’t a reason not to go, she just couldn’t anymore. It didn’t feel like home anymore, and it hadn’t for a long time. 16 years, that’s how long it had been since her first hunt and every year since then she’d been less and less likely to come back. She loved the people there, but it just...hadn't really even crossed her mind to be honest.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Emma lied, it was easier than the truth that she hadn’t even really thought about going back.

“So. How’s the new rule been treating you?” Queen Regina’s new rule had been controversial to say the least. After all of the questions regarding her late husbands death as well as the growing hatred for mages and non-humans that seemed to grow more and more everyday, Emma had to admit she was curious.

“She’s actually not been bad, and we pay taxes, same as it’s always been, but from what I hear, she’s very popular in court and among the nobles. I guess we’ll have to wait and see though.” Ruby had always prided herself on her gift for gab, being able to talk to anyone about anything and being an innkeeper helped and the fact that the tavern she worked at sat on one of the main roads toward the capital, she met a lot of merchants and nobles.

“And what about the King, not mourning his passing?” Emma asked as Ruby shrugged.

“I mean he was handsome and tall; he passed through here once and I mean he was really popular but I think it had more to do with our last King’s rule than his own, it's really only because of King Henry that our Kingdom got as rich as it did.” Ruby paused and continued, mulling something over. “I’ve heard that even though a lot of the peasants loved him because he was throwing so many tournaments and stuff that not a lot of people in his court liked him, the Queen was always the more interesting one anyway.”

Ruby could always talk to anyone she could about the world outside of her tiny little village, having grown up in one place and not traveled the world only increased her thirst to do so.

“I even heard she captured a djinn.” Ruby whispered conspiratorially and Emma’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline, from the way Ruby whispered it, Emma knew it was probably a rumor but still. “I thought that djinn’s were just legends though?” Ruby asked seeing Emma’s surprised face.

Emma shook her head. “They’re really rare, Cormac told me that he even banished one once, but they do exist and are apparently immensely powerful.” Cormac had told Emma that before he managed to banish the djinn it summoned a gale of wind so strong that it cut the vocal cords of the person who unlocked it from its bottle, preventing them from making any wishes.

“Djinn’s are beings of magic and any sorcerer who manages to tame one becomes that much more powerful, they can direct that energy in the way of spells. I asked a mage and she said that Alexander of Meteli tamed one and moved a mountain with that power.” Emma explained.

Ruby frowned and then nodded. “Like Old Byram was able to stop that tsunami from wiping out Novigrad.” Both of these events had happened over a century ago but none had achieved anything of the like before or since, but Emma knew any sorcerer with a djinn at their beck and call could achieve near omnipotence.

Emma had learned this from numerous sorcerers that she’d met on her travels in the big cities. Mages were normally nobles, because only well off families could afford to send them the mage colleges as necessary. Only a select few people possessed the ability to become mages and an even fewer number got the proper training and education to use their powers. If a potential mage didn’t get training in the use of their magic quickly enough they would probably be driven half insane by power they couldn’t properly access or end up as the village witch or local cunning woman.

A lot of sorcerers and sorceresses ended up at a royal court, as the king's advisor or what have you, but Queen Regina was the first example of a mage sitting on the royal throne themselves.

After a moment Ruby asked, “So where do you plan on going this year?” Emma had been thinking about where she could go after she finished up her work in the country for the last few days and she had a good idea of where she would go.

“I was thinking east, maybe, south for a bit.” Emma had been thinking of Caingorn in particular when she said this but she wasn’t absolutely certain yet. “I haven’t been through Caingorn in a while, I’ll work my way through Velhad and Talgar first though.” It had been about three years and wanted to try her luck there once again, after all there was always work for a witcher after a war.

“I hear there are a lot of refugees from the war in Caingorn these days.” Ruby said sadly, after Nilfgaard had invaded it left a lot of refugees looking for a home and Caingorn had been the most welcoming option.

“Yeah, and where there’s people there’s monsters, but before I leave I have another contract in Lakepoint before I leave, apparently some spook is prowling the forest.” Emma made air quotes at the word ‘spook’ and rolled her eyes. Lakepoint was a pretty average village about 60 miles away from the village she was in now.

“Yeah, I heard about that, their village ealdorman was here the other day to try and collect coin for the reward, but the notice really said spook? I didn’t know about that monster.” Ruby joked and Emma sighed.

“Yeah, I swear the just the vagueness of these contracts is going to get me killed.” Being a witcher meant dealing with frustratingly naïve and ill informed people and while Emma couldn’t exactly blame them for not knowing about the monsters that haunted them, wanting a little more specificity was not out of the question. “It’s killed three already and a few sheep. I need to head out tomorrow morning if I want to collect the full bounty.” More than once Emma had been cheated out of the full amount of gold for not arriving to collect the contract quickly enough and she was not likely let it happen again. Emma nearly passed out from exhaustion thinking off all of the things she needed to do in such a short period.

The witcher mutations that enhanced her body certainly did afford her enhanced stamina and endurance. Still being beaten nearly to death by a vampire the night before would take a toll on anybody.

She needed to visit the village herbalist and get more potion ingredients, making that Black Blood potion and the vampire oil had cleared out all of the herbs she had been squirreling away. Gathering them by hand could be done but would be tedious and frustrating as all hell.

Ruby pouted and only then did Emma realize what she hadn’t said. “I’ll come by and visit before I leave Rubes, I promise." Emma smiled a rare tender smile and Ruby returned with one of her own.

It’d take her a day, maybe two to track down the monster, then she’d head come back to see Ruby and rest for a few days and then head out, luckily Saxondale sat on one of the main roads, well traveled by nobles and merchants so getting out of the country wouldn’t be too hard.

It was loyalists of Regina’s husband's’ rule that started the small war, the mysterious circumstances surrounding her husband’s death and the growing distrust of mages and non-humans had all worked against the new queen. Kovir, once a safe haven for mages and sorcerers had always rejected the ideas of mages being untrustworthy, preferring fact and science to baseless superstition. Lately however an ember had sparked a fire, the fanatic prejudice against all things non-human had been growing everywhere one could look.

“So how is it? In the East I mean?” Ruby asked, she knew, hell everyone knew that the North had been in a state of chaos for nearly three years. All out total war would do that.

“I’ve been through the North, through Redania dozens of times since I started on the Path and I’ve seen a lot; greed, prejudice, crime but what’s going on there now, scares the hell out of me. I was there when Dreveria invaded…It wasn’t easy to watch.”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked confusedly, she had heard stories from travelers about the North but hearing it from Emma would be something else entirely.

“I mean lynch mobs and pogroms that had started near the wars end, sure the flames have died down now but still, I try to avoid passing through that city whenever possible these days.”

Humans had always been distrustful of all the other races, elves, dwarves as well as witchers and mages. In some areas of the world more than others, but to an extent the hate had always been there, the hatred had exploded in ways Emma had never seen before about three years ago, when the Nilfgaardian Empire invaded into the North.

Nilfgaard, had always been a looming threat over the northern part of the continent, an Empire that expanded itself for over a hundred years through the conquest of its neighbors, the economy thrived and its military was the most powerful in the world, it quickly became the most powerful empire in history. It stopped its aggressive expansion nearly two centuries ago but every ruler in the North feared the day its leaders got hungry again.

Three years ago that day came, smashing its way through Temeria, and into Redania, then Aedirn, and, Lyria. Emma had been in the free city of Novigrad at the time. It wasn’t easy to see, and it didn’t take long for famine to set in and new levels of poverty as well. People turned to the Gods: and then to a small church with not many followers and offered an answer to the questions of peasantry.

It took all the strength of the North to repel the empire, old grudges were forgotten, new alliances made and after a year of war the strength of the North won out over the South but at great cost, while much of the physical damage to the countries had been healed the Church of the Eternal Fire’s following still grew.

In the free city Novigrad where the Church of Eternal fire was based it had taken a lot of power, many of the political positions in the city where taken by members of the Church or those who were in their pocket. While the Church’s power was still largely relegated to the city. It was still the largest city in the North with the second largest fleet in the world and its followers were fanatic in their belief. Once, one of the most respected mages schools in the world existed only 20 miles outside of the city but the lynch mobs changed that.

Who was to blame for the famine, the war, and the poverty? The elves, the dwarves, sorcerers. To have a scapegoat, that was the key, humans would always fear the alien, the odd and humans did what humans always do, folk turned their anger against the other races and as they have for ages, branded their neighbors their greatest foes.

The Church of the Eternal Fire’s beliefs had largely been restricted to Onryx but somehow some of its fanatics had found their way to Kovir and Povis and began their attack on the new Queen’s rule. A sorceress as Queen? Blasphemous as anything. Joining up with the previous King's loyalists they began their assaults until the new Queen shut them down, hard, and having every one of her foes who survived the battle executed for treason.

“How long’s it been, Emma since you started on the Path?”

Emma paused and looked skyward thinking it over for a moment. “Has to be…16-17 years now. Shit I’m old.” Emma complained. “Why do you ask?”

Ruby shrugged. “Just thinking about how short a time I’ve known you and how much else you’ve done before you knew me. It’s a little mind boggling honestly.”

Emma frowned. “You can ask me anything, Ruby, you know that.” If there was anything Ruby wanted to know about from before they’d met each other she could ask. Emma wasn’t necessarily the most open person and she was a little low on the emotional expression so Ruby tended to tip toe around what she thought were sensitive subjects but she knew the basics; she was raised at Kaer Gelen and left when she was 18.

“I know. Thanks, Emma.”

“Looks like trouble’s brewing.” Emma stated, for the first time noticing several men around the tavern; each of them had a sword or a blackjack, yet none of them wore the colors or armor of the Caderannian army and swords were much too expensive for most peasants. Bandits were the only conclusion, Emma could make.

“Emma…” Ruby said pleadingly, begging the other woman not to get involved, she long knew about the other woman’s penchant for somehow getting involved with other people's problems, in spite of her insistence that she did not. 

“I think it’s time I was on my way.” Emma responded somberly, still staring at the men sitting around the tavern, when suddenly her eyes turned back to Ruby. “I’ll grab some provisions for the road and then I’ll go.” When suddenly a crash sounded from the other side of the tavern, near the barkeeps area Emma identified immediately.

“Why’d you—why’d you take down me brother’s portrait?” Came a slurred question, it came from a woman who’d been sitting in the tavern since before Emma came in, and had been hitting the bottle hard for the past day—past week if Emma’s nose was to be trusted.

Up on the wall, once sat numerous portraits of certain special patrons of Granny’s Inn, those that owned the tavern before her and one that had donated when she nearly had to close. This woman’s brother was one such and Emma could see now, a part of the wall was discolored and that discoloration was about the same size as the other portraits that hung upon the wall.

“I cannot show his portrait, the Queen's men will come and burn the tavern down.” Granny replied lowly enough that she was sure only the other woman Ruby and herself had heard the reply.

“Maybe it’s true what they say, are you fond of the witch Queen? You the Queen’s whore?” The woman slurred, but Emma could almost feel the anger burning through the liquor turning into sobriety. The bandits sitting around the tavern turned their eyes up to look at the exchange and Emma’s entire body tensed. She swirled the liquor in her glass mesmerized by it.

Granny, though the most difficult person Emma had ever known, was simultaneously the calmest, but in an instant all of that changed, her face was a mask of fury and as quickly as it was there it was also gone. She began to wipe down the tavern with a cloth, gripping the fabric so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“I know grief grips your heart. I’ll let that pass.” Granny gritted out through her teeth.

“You don’t know shit, they hanged my brother, dragged him and his friends out into the streets and hanged them all!” The woman’s voice grew louder with every word and Emma and Ruby watched with narrowed eyes from their position in the bar, now oblivious to everything around them

Granny put the jug of liquor the woman was pouring from underneath the table behind the counter but the woman seemed not to notice. “My brother gave a lot of money to this tavern, saved you from closing down a few times, you owe your whole livelihood to him!” She hiccupped and in a flash of motion tossed her mug at Granny, ducking out of the way it shattered on the wall behind her, the woman grabbed Granny by the sleeve of her shirt and then by the collar of her shirt, with her free hand she reached across the counter for a knife that Granny had used for cooking earlier.

“Let go!” Granny cried but before the drunk could do anything Emma grabbed both of the woman’s hands and held them up above their heads. Ruby watched in shock, as she hadn’t even heard Emma move.

The woman wrenched her hands out of Emma’s grip. “Leave me be!” The woman slurred and the stench of alcohol was pungent as anything now and before Emma could respond one of the men—the bandits Emma had spied in the tavern earlier was pushing her away from the other woman. Turning her head she saw two of the man’s friends had gotten up to back him up, hands on the hilts of their swords. The drunken woman scurried past them in the confusion but Emma’s eyes never left her attacker.

She plucked her witcher medallion between two fingers. “See the medallion? Know what it means? Back the hell off.” Most normal men, when faced with the option of fighting a witcher would slink under a rock in a timely fashion, but not men who’d been drinking the better part of the day and with nothing better to do. She inclined her head toward Granny and Ruby who now stood next to each other behind the counter. “You alright?” Granny nodded and Emma turned her attention back to the men.

“They say witchers steal children!” One of the men slurred, he was skinny and lithe, not wielding a sword but a club made of wood, he was bald with a leather jerkin and brown trousers with a cap that covered his head.

“That true? What did the Queen promise you freak? Gold? Land?” He grew dangerously close to Emma and the other two-followed suit another two men who’d been sitting at the table behind them got up and joined them. “The eternal fire doesn’t approve of snake eyed freaks.”

Emma narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Get out. All of you.”

The man in front unsheathed his sword and his fellows followed suit. “We’re not going anywhere. And neither are you.” He growled brandishing his sword, Emma responded by drawing her own steel sword.

‘Damn it, they won’t back down now.’ Emma watched all of them, in this small-enclosed area; they had the advantage over her. That would quickly change. Twisting her body into a pirouette Emma’s sword became a whirl of motion that was difficult to follow. Stepping toward them as the man in front was forced to block her strikes, quick and shallow, but wide arching all three men who originally got up were forced to parry her strikes.

Eventually one of her strikes made it through to the man in the middle and that was all it took, he dropped his guard in pain from the first shallow cut on his arm and then came several more strikes in the span of a few seconds, all shallow but every one hit an artery, he fell to the ground limply but Emma did not stop her whirl instead reversing and breaking the pattern ending behind the second man with one quick strike into his back through his spine. Finally coming to a halt with only three men left.

For a moment all they could do was stare with terror in their eyes at what they’d just witnessed. One of the men swallowed thickly and looked at his companions nervously, shifting left to right on his feet before rushing forward wildly with his wooden club, Emma blocked his strike easily, almost casually and thrusted her shoulder into the center of his chest forcing him back a step grabbing him by the collar with her free hand she thrusted her sword upward through his stomach and then pulled it back.

No time to rest however the last two men rushed her together, finally sobering up to come up with some kind of tactic and Emma’s enhanced reflexes came into play blocking both their strikes in motions that were difficult to see for anyone watching. One of the men slowly shuffled his feet trying to get around, get an angle on her. Emma was about to do something when the other one began hammering away at her with his sword stupidly but effectively as it tied up her attention long enough for his friend to get behind her. The man struck at her again and this time she parried the struck the kicked out with a hard hit to the gut the man stumbled back; sticking her sword over her back and straight down she blocked a strike that came from the man behind her without looking away hopping forward she thrust her sword forward with both hands through the man's stomach before, pushing him off of her sword with her right hand he fell back unmoving.

She heard the man behind her rush forward hopping sideways she avoided his wild strike and with a strong wide strike of his own to the back of his leg, the man fell to a knee, Emma brought her sword vertically across his neck, so strong was the strike the man's head was cleanly severed from his body. Placing her sword back in the scabbard. Only then did the rest of the surroundings come rushing in, Emma tended to get a bit of tunnel vision when she fought. The bar was near empty now, many of the patrons had fled in the chaos, only Emma, Ruby, Granny and two other bar patrons remained, one of them curled into the corner cowering in fear and the other Emma watched stepped toward the back of the tavern and immediately emptied the contents of his stomach.

On the ground the drunken woman who started the row sat hiccuping and wide eyed near the counter, Emma put her hand out. “Are you…alright?” Emma asked the woman.

The other woman responded by slapping her hand away. “Get away!” She crawled to her feet and stumbled out of the door.

“Emma.” Ruby’s sad voice came from behind counter and Emma turned to the younger woman with an equally sad expression. “You should…should….” She started and couldn’t finish, but Emma knew what she wanted to say.

“I know Ruby.” Emma swallowed thickly. “I know.” Staring down at the ground, she dared one last glance up at Ruby and Granny, not daring to look at their eyes, she pushed herself to move toward the door and breathed out a shaky breath and with trembling hands pushed the door open.

‘So much for not getting involved.’ Emma thought, walking out of the front door, what she saw outside surprised her, a patrol of four soldiers of the Caderannian army in heavy plate armor, black and red, the colors of Caderann. The man in front who Emma assumed was the commander held a piece of parchment tightly in his hand. The three behind him held large pikes straight up into the air, ready to fight.

“That in there. I didn’t start that.” Emma gestured behind her defensively, being arrested would really make this the worst day of her life.

“But you finished it, right witcher?” The commander responded sarcastically. “Worry not, witcher, we are not here to arrest you and besides we’d been looking for those men. Traitors all.”

“Nice of you.” She responded suspiciously. “Then I’ll just be on my way.”

“Oh, we are here for you witcher, but not for the reason you think.” Emma raised an eyebrow and the man unrolled the piece of parchment in his hand and held it in front of his face. “To the witcher Emma Swan of the school of the cat.” He quoted from the document. “Your presence is summoned to appear in the court of her majesty, Queen Regina, ruler of Kovir and Povis and all her peoples.” He looked up signaling that he was finished.

‘Shit.’ Emma thought. “No.” Emma responded simply. Hell no was she getting involved with kings and queens again. Once she had been contracted to remove a curse from a Duke's daughter, she had done so successfully but it turned out the Duke’s political opponents had hired a mage to place the curse on the young girl in the first place and afterward sent assassins after Emma and the child. Emma had made sure that both of them got through unscathed but after that she swore off taking contracts from royalty or political figures.

The commander was clearly shocked but hid it well. “Perhaps the summons was unclear, I however shall not be. That was not a request witcher, you will appear in court, as our Queen has work for you.” 

Emma glanced at her horse and before the thought could even enter her head, the commander responded. “Don’t even think about it. The Queen wishes to make you an offer.” He explained.

“The kind one can’t refuse.” Emma responded and a ghost of a smile appeared on the captain's face but was gone just as quickly. “Gotta be a damn good offer to seek me out like this.”

“The sooner we set off, the sooner you’ll find out.” He responded. “How’s your horse, swift?”

“She gets the job done. Why?” Emma shrugged.

“Time is of the essence and I’d like to get home as quickly as possible.” He responded vaguely, in spite of the fact that Emma really didn’t want to take job, she had to admit she was officially curious.

Emma nodded with a sigh. “Let’s go then.” ‘And get this the hell over with.’

X X X

“A watched pot never boils, Regina.” Regina looked up from the map she’d been staring at, boring a hole through more like map and the table beneath, trying to think, to search...anything.

“Bell, I hadn’t heard you come in.” Regina did not look up from the map however she could see the other woman lean up against the war table. 

“Regina, look at me.” Regina finally tore her worried eyes away from the map and the table and looked to the blonde woman. “We’ll find him.” She said with as much sincerity as she could muster, she’d seen Regina angry, furious, and even happy after her son was born, but she’d never seen the woman in the state that she was in now. Just lost and defeated, completely out of energy.

“No, we won’t remember, we tried every brand of magic we could, geomancy, hydromancy, h...” She trailed off her list, her angry; angry at at her helplessness. “And now I have to turn it over to some mercenary, a monster hunter to find my boy, my son…” If Bell didn’t know better she’d have said the woman was going to cry, but she knew her too well to ever believe that.

“You’ve never seen one of them in action, it’s a true marvel, and besides we’ve tried everything we could think of magically and now it’s time to turn it over to someone who’s of the best trackers in the world.” Bell tried to assure her friend but could see it was falling on deaf ears, she sighed.

“Leopold hired one once, but I never actually met him, didn’t like the man very much though. Neal I think his name was. Leopold said he got the job done and that was all that mattered.” She spoke absently, almost to herself and Tinkerbell nodded.

“Yeah, and back when I was living in Nilfgaard I hired one to remove the curse off of a small Isle off the main land. Story short they do get results.” While the man Tinkerbell had hired had been the biggest jackass she had ever met, she couldn’t deny she had been impressed with his work. “Plus do you remember when Jon visited court, he wouldn’t shut up about this one.” She nodded at the artist's rendering of the female witcher as had been described to them. Jon Rutherford was a merchant, one of the leaders of the guild in Kovir, an eccentric man to say the least but one with an impressive mind for business so Regina had always tolerated him. A few years ago, he’d bought a large house just outside the city of Novigrad that turned out to be haunted. Luckily for him Emma Swan had been in the area and offered to break the curse for him, the house turned out not to be haunted but had been built above a large cellar that held a trapped earth elementa. The house had likely belonged to a mage at one point, who had to flee the house due to persecution because mage’s often used elementa’s as guards for their towers. But left unchecked magical entropy would set in and they would eventually begin would attack anything and everything that came near it and given they were near twelve feet tall and could crush most humans almost by accident they made for tough foes.

“Do you think she can find him?” Regina asked, and Bell had never seen the woman look so worried. “Can she find Henry?” Two weeks ago Henry had vanished, both of the guards, who’d been posted outside of his door; dead and other than a few broken things in his room everything was as it had always been. There was no blood, so he was alive. He had to be alive.

“She will, Regina. She has to.” Regina looked down at the sketch of the woman, tracing her fingers over the lines of the image. ‘She has to.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super in love with this chapter but there you guys have it


End file.
